


Avengers College AU Electric Boogaloo: Bucky Gets Thor a Boyfriend and Maybe Makes Some Friends In the Process

by lesbiancharliekelly



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (Stucky), Alternate Universe - College/University, Baseball, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, POV Alternating, Thor and Bruce are pining, Tony shows up for a few minutes as an obnoxious business major who vapes, Trans! Thor, Valkyrie/Carol is more background but Valkyrie is in it a fair amount, just a lot of love in their heart, no one has super powers, see the notes before each chapter for additional content warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 22:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19160689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbiancharliekelly/pseuds/lesbiancharliekelly
Summary: Bucky Barnes is a a depressed art major who vapes and is dating Steve Rogers. Oh, and he's on the baseball team. The only person better than him at baseball might be Thor, a jock with hidden depths (aka he's a sociology major with a crush on Bruce Banner.) Will these two become unlikely friends, and will this friendship help Thor catch the scientist of his dreams? There are parties, baseball games, and pottery mishaps galore.





	1. In Which Thor Invites Bucky and Steve to a Party

**Author's Note:**

> CW: people get their blood drawn in this chapter. I don't go super in detail about it, but if it super skeeves you out i'll put a summary of this chapter at the beginning of the next one so you can skip this one.

“Do we haaave to go donate blood?” Bucky asks Steve, staring glumly at his hamburger. Eating cafeteria food is always somehow especially depressing during Friday lunches. Something about how the weekend is coming up and this is what they’re doing in the meantime. “Isn’t there some ANTIFA meeting you have to go to?”

“Those are usually on Wednesdays and you know that,” Steve tells him. “And no I guess we don’t _have_ to donate blood, if you don’t want to do something basically painless that’ll be over in less than an hour and could potentially save someone’s life. I can always go do it by myself.” As he says this, Steve dips his grilled cheese in his bowl of tomato soup and takes a huge mouthful.

“Steve, I really feel like you’d have a good career making after school specials. Have you considered that?” Bucky then does what he considers to be a great imitation of Steve’s voice, albeit with an “I’m an announcer at a baseball game” twist and says, “Hello, I’m Steve Rodgers, and I’m here to tell you that Nazis are bad, that donating blood saves lives, and that one pod of a vape pen can contain as much nicotine as a pack of cigarettes.”

“That’s all true, though. One pod of a vape pen _does_ contain as much nicotine as a pack of cigs,” Steve says. “And that’s not even mentioning how much of an asshole it makes you look like when you smoke one.”

Bucky makes a face at him. “At least I don’t chew anymore, alright? Get off my case!”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe you ever did. I swear you’re an old man from 1940s.”

“Hey, it’s part of baseball culture, Steve. I can’t help it if I was dumb, impressionable, and star of the baseball team in high school.”

“You’re _still_ dumb and impressionable, and now you don’t even have being the star of the baseball team to counterbalance that.”

“Hey, just because some guy literally named Thor gets more home runs than I do doesn’t mean I ain’t a star in my own right. Besides, what chance did I ever have against someone with a name like that?”

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, putting up his hands. “Anyway, don’t think I don’t know you’re just trying to distract me from the whole ‘donating blood thing.’ It’s not like you to wimp out about things.”

“I’m not wimping out! I’m just not overly fond of needles. But yeah, Jesus, alright, I’ll meet you there at three and then a few weeks later the little girl whose life I saved can write me a thank you card. Besides, I always love lying on the form about never having had sex with other men before and then looking the nurses straight in the eyes as I hold your hand the whole time.”

Steve grimaces. “Yeah, that rule is bullshit. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t—”

Bucky cuts him off before he can even finish. “Steve, babe, you know I love to break the rules. I don’t care about shit like that. I’ll see ya at three.” Bucky gives Steve a little kiss before he gets up to leave. He used to not be able to stand that, couples who would kiss each other goodbye when they were only gonna be apart for a few hours. But even after a year of dating, it’s still kind of hard to believe that this is real, that he can do things like kiss Steve goodbye in the middle of the school cafeteria. So he does, and then he can’t help smiling all the way to his next class like some kind of dork.

***

Bucky gets out of class regretful that he chose to wear all black. They’re about halfway into the semester, so he should really know by now that yes, he _is_ going to get white clay dust all over him after a few hours of using the wheel and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. But the pretentious art major in him loves the all-black look too much to really believe that it’s an impractical choice when he’s getting ready in the morning. So now he just wipes the clay dust off himself as best he can then makes his way over to the auditorium, fixing his hair into a bun while he walks.

As he walks, he runs back through his day’s work in his mind. Pottery is not his best class, he’ll admit that much. Bucky’s favorite kind of art is sculpture, but not the kind you make with clay. He makes these huge ones using wood and metal and found objects. He’s forever dragging Steve to the dump or scrap yards so he can find wires and broken lampshades and old magazines to use as material. Pottery, not so much his thing. But he has to admit, working with the wheel is incredibly calming, even if the girl who works next to him is constantly muttering what he thinks are Russian curse words under her breath. She might be the only one worse at pottery than him.

Finally, Bucky gets to the auditorium to see that, of course, Steve is already waiting. He’s sitting on a bench outside the auditorium reading a book. He’s got earbuds in and is bobbing his head slightly. Bucky knows from experience that Steve isn’t gonna notice a damn thing with those ear buds in.

Bucky immediately veers off the path, out of Steve’s line of sight, sneaking up on him until he can throw his arms around Steve from behind. Steve, clearly startled, throws his hands up in the air without letting go of his book and manages to accidentally whack Bucky in the face with it. “I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that!” Steve says, but he’s laughing. He shakes his head. “I don’t _get_ how you always manage to do that. I swear you trained with the KGB or something!”

Bucky laughs. “ _Or_ I just have the most oblivious boyfriend in the world. That book really got me this time, though. What are you reading that’s so heavy?”

Steve holds up a biography of Theodore Roosevelt. It’s bigger than anything Bucky thinks he’s read in his life. Bucky asks, “And is that for class or…?”

“Just for fun,” Steve says sheepishly.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m dating a history major who reads historical biographies for fun in his spare time.”

“It’s really good, though, Buck. Roosevelt was wild! I mean, look, I know the guy isn’t exactly a role model or anything. But did you know he had asthma and all these other health problems when he was a kid, to the point where they thought he was gonna die multiple times before he was even like six years old? And then the guy just says, ‘Nah, I’m good’ and like ends up being this great outdoorsman?”

Of course Steve would be interested in something like that, Bucky realizes. When they were kids, it seemed like Steve had every health problem imaginable. He had asthma, which meant he also got chronic colds, and he had heart problems which put him in the hospital more than once. Bucky remembers the neighborhood fundraisers they’d had to have more than a few times to help Steve’s mom out with the cost of it all. Then Steve’s mom took night classes, and finally got a job as a nurse, which meant good health coverage.

Steve got a pacemaker put in, which helps a lot, but it didn’t solve everything. Steve can play recreational baseball now, and he got into weight lifting in high school because he “wanted to be ready to punch a fascist at any time” (although his pacemaker prevents him from, like, jacked af body builder levels of weight lifting.) But his asthma and the fact that he still tends to get sick a lot means he can’t be on the team with Bucky. But of course he always comes and cheers Bucky on from the sidelines anyway and grins at him like he’s just won a million dollars every time Bucky finishes a game.

Bucky ruffles Steve’s hair like they’re kids again. “That does sound pretty interesting. Maybe I’ll give it a try sometime,” he says, even though they both know he’s never gonna get around to reading it. That’s not what matters. “Watcha listening to?” he asks, grabbing the earbud that fell out of Steve’s ear during the sneaking-up-and-getting-a-book-to-the-face debacle. Bucky half really wants to know, half really wants to put off getting his blood drawn.

The sound of Ella Fitzgerald immediately overwhelms him. _She never bothers with people she’d hate/that’s why the lady is a tramp_ Ella sings into his ear. “Good stuff, “ Bucky says, then smiles. This is what he loves about Steve so much. Steve is corny. He loves old music and books about dead people and as soon as he got medication for his high blood pressure he started donating blood as often as they’d let him. And if being his boyfriend and his best friend means Bucky gets roped into donating blood sometimes too, then so be it. There’s only so long he can put off the inevitable, Bucky figures, so he gives the earbud back to Steve, stands up, and says, “All right. Let’s do this.”

***

Once they get inside, they end up next to none other than Thor himself, from the baseball team. He seems to have already donated blood and is just sitting in his chair sipping out of a juice box. “Bucky!” Thor says thunderously as they sit down next to him, his vigorous energy seemingly in no way dampened by the fact that mere minutes ago his body was drained of multiple pints of blood. Bucky, already freaking out a little bit about needles, tries his best to smile back widely and look cool, calm, and collected. He’s going first, to get it over with, and Steve is waiting to get his blood drawn so he can hold Bucky’s hand.

Steve nods at Thor by way of greeting. They’ve met at games before, although they don’t know each other that well. Even Bucky hasn’t really had any substantial conversations with Thor besides passing small talk or delves into baseball strategy. Thor, for his part, says, “Good to see you too, Rodgers!” Thor does that a lot, that bro thing where you call people by their last name.

“What’s up?” Steve asks Thor, giving Bucky’s hand a little squeeze as the nurse comes over. Bucky knows he’s trying to signal that Bucky should make conversation to distract himself from what’s about to happen. Bucky does his best to listen to the conversation and ignore the fact that he is being stuck with a needle.

“Not much. Just got out of class and am shifting into party mode for sure,” Thor says, looking very much not in party mode as he sits docile and sipping his juice box.

The nurse taking Bucky’s blood looks over sternly and says, “We don’t recommend consuming any alcohol for _at least_ forty-eight hours after giving blood.”

“Not to worry, ma’am, the one we’re having tonight is strictly a board-game and hot chocolate situation.” Thor beams at the nurse so genuinely that she seems to believe him, and Bucky himself can’t tell if Thor is just saying that to placate her or if it really is true. Thor turns back to Bucky and Steve and adds, “But we _are_ having a wicked party at Asgard tomorrow night. You should both come!”

“Asgard?” Steve says.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “It’s what they call his house.” There are a lot houses just off campus where the landlords pretty much always rent to college students. They’re passed down from one group of students to another. The most well-known ones are chronic party houses and are endowed with names like Asgard, names that most of the student population who isn’t Steve knows. Names that are usually quite grand in comparison to the wrecks that the houses tend to be.

“It used to be called Heaven House, but we changed it when I moved in last year. On account of the name. Thor, Norse God of Thunder. Asgard, kind-of, sort-of, not-really Norse version of Heaven. You know. I do have a sense of humor about the name,” Thor says, and then he winks at them.

As titillating as the brief foray into Norse mythology is, it’s not really enough to distract Bucky from giving blood. “I think I’m going to faint,” he declares, and then he does.

When he comes to, Steve is hovering over him looking very concerned. Bucky then sees, to his horror, that Thor is also still there, also looking concerned. Fainting in front of the one guy who’s better at baseball than him was not really on Bucky’s list of things he wanted out of his Friday afternoon. He’s annoyed, too, because it’s been a while since he’s fainted while giving blood. He should have eaten more of that hamburger. Damn.

The nurse is very nice, and makes sure he drinks a juice box and eats some snacks, and when he seems like he’s doing all right she leaves them all alone.

“I’m sorry, Buck, I really shouldn’t have pressured you into this,” Steve says, looking absolutely devastated.

“Really, Steve, it’s fine. You didn’t pressure me into anything. If I really didn’t wanna do it, I would’ve given you a hard time about it. I think it’s cute how you wanna save the world in every little way you can, including getting your Victorian-lady of a boyfriend to donate blood. It’s sorta fun when I don’t faint, feeling like I’m doing my small part for the world.” Bucky realizes it’s all incredibly corny to say in front of Thor, but he knows Steve and he knows Steve likes corny. Right now he cares more about making sure Steve feels alright about everything than he does about saving face in front of a teammate. Thor already saw him faint. How much worse can it get anyway? And the smile on Steve’s face is worth it.

Instead of sensing that they are having a _moment_ and he should let them be, Thor pipes up, “That’s so sweet, dude. You two are so sweet.” How long ago did Thor donate blood anyway? Shouldn’t he have left by now? Steve smiles at Thor kind of awkwardly, then turns back to Bucky.

“Do you wanna go back to my room? It’s not that far from here so that way you don’t have to walk that much.”

“Yeah, that would be great,” Bucky says. “Sorry you don’t get to donate blood today.”

Steve gives him a sort of wicked grin that means he’s about to say something kind of mean and probably funny. “I was actually planning on you fainting so that I could get out of it.”

“Oh, shut up and help me up,” Bucky says. He makes his way unsteadily to his feet and throws his arm around Steve, who does his best to support Bucky’s weight.

“Do you need any help there?” Thor says, also getting up. Oh, so _now_ he decides it’s time to go.

“Oh, I think I’ve got him,” Steve says.

“Oh, it’s really no problem,” Thor says, and comes over, and then he literally _sweeps Bucky up off his feet and carries him out the door_. Bucky would be mad, but as they’re leaving he can hear the nurse calling after them in a worried voice that she really doesn’t think it’s the best idea, and Steve’s face is so surprised, and so are the faces of all of their classmates who are there donating. If there’s one thing that Bucky loves more than maintaining his dignity, it’s probably causing a scene. He can’t help but throw his head back and laugh as they make their way to the exit.

Once they get outside, Steve’s caught up, and he tells Thor that really, his room is just right over there and they’re fine. Thor sets Bucky down agreeably, and says, “You guys really should come to my party tomorrow, though. It’ll be lit!” Then, without waiting for a response, he grabs his longboard and jets off.

“You know, I would have asked him if he really thought it was such a good idea to longboard after donating blood, but he did just carry you across the entire auditorium so I figured it was fine,” Steve says, putting an arm around Bucky.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that guy really is the God of Thunder after all, and he’s just choosing to spend his time among us mortals, donating blood and drinking juice boxes,” he says. “So are we going to his party tomorrow or what?”

Steve shrugs. “We’ll see.”


	2. In Which Thor Breaks a Plate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you skipped the first chapter on account of the whole "everyone getting their blood drawn" thing, basically Bucky and Steve are dating, they're super cute, and Thor invited them to a party at his house, which is nicknamed Asgard.

Thor longboards all the way back to Asgard, which is to say, all of three blocks, but it _is_ uphill, so he’s still impressed with himself. When he rolls up he sees that Heimdall is already sitting on the front porch drinking a beer.

“Out of class already? I thought you that International Relations thingie that went till 5,” Thor says, leaning his board up against the house and then taking a seat beside Heimdall.

“Oh, yeah, the seminar? I did have it, but I skipped it because it’s a special occasion.”

“A special occasion?” Thor asks, and for a minute he’s panicked that he forgot Heimdall’s birthday after knowing him his whole life.

“Yeah – it’s the weekend!” Heimdall says, raising his beer into the air. Thor rolls his eyes.

“So have you been doing anything else to enthusiastically embrace the weekend besides drinking a beer on our front porch?”

“Yes. I’ve been up to some shit. A little treason,” Heimdall says, and Thor laughs before Heimdall shakes his head and admits, “Nah, just this. Although I swear taking that International Relations seminar makes me _want_ to commit treason.”

“Look, we can come up with a plan to overthrow the nation-state and reconfigure the government later. Right _now_ we need to clean the house a little bit,” Thor says, standing up and heading inside.

Heimdall groans. He follows Thor, but seemingly only to protest. “Must we? Isn’t it just Valkyrie and Carol coming over tonight? They don’t care what our house looks like.”

“ _I_ care,” says Thor. The living room is dark, no one having bothered to open the blinds the whole day. Heimdall follows Thor around the room as he opens the blinds and tries his best to straighten up the living room. “Valkyrie’s literally the head of her sorority, which, if you haven’t been over there in a while, looks amazing, as always. They have all these _plants_ in every room and they’re all green and thriving. We should get some plants in here. Whereas we –” at this point Thor pauses to kick a set of giant lawn darts under the sofa – a set of lawn darts that he knows for a fact were recalled due to their tendency to impale people – “we live with a group of guys that literally call themselves the Three Warriors. Now, as much as I love them, you have to admit that that is stupid. It makes them sound like drunk frat bros that show up to parties just long enough to get blackout drunk and break things.”

“Thor, they _are_ three frat bros that show up to parties just long enough to get blackout drunk and break things,” Heimdall says. “Speaking of which, where even are they right now? It’s a bit early for them to already be out doing just that.”

Thor gives Heimdall’s own beer a pointed look. “Hey, this is my first beer of the day!” Heimdall says.

“They’re not _technically_ in a frat,” Thor says. Then he sighs. “I think they have rugby practice or something right now though.”

Heimdall doesn’t even bother replying directly to that. Instead he just says, “Besides, aren’t you literally throwing a party here tomorrow night? You throw parties here all the time!”

“Yes, but I want _my_ party to have class. I’m going to get some charcuterie. That reminds me, I need you to go to the store with me tomorrow and help me pick out some cheese.” As he says this, Thor gathers about twelve unwashed sweatshirts into his arms and throws them toward the laundry room. Most of them make it on top of the washer, but Heimdall has to step around two of them to follow Thor into the kitchen.

“A) Thank you for assuming I have nothing better to do with my Saturday than help you pick out cheese and B) aren’t you also buying a keg for a this party? I would say that about cancels out any cheese plates you might put together.” Despite himself, Heimdall is now helping Thor do the dishes without Thor even having to ask, standing there with a towel and drying them off as Thor hands them to him.

“I’m sorry for assuming that my dear friend would not help me in my hour of need,” Thor says.

He looks so incredibly earnest and sad that Heimdall finds himself saying, “Okay, fine, fine, I will help you pick out cheese.”

“And besides, we need a keg to insure everyone has enough to drink. I don’t want to be a bad host. But the charcuterie and maybe also the fun little party lights or balloons I am going to buy will help contribute to an atmosphere where everyone feels welcome at my party. I want to bring the school together. I want to create a place that says, ‘Ah, yes, I may, despite myself, be only friends with dumb jocks –”

“Hey, _I’m_ not a dumb jock!” Heimdall says, refusing to take the plate Thor is holding out to him.

“Alright, fine,” Thor says, now brandishing the wet plate rather dangerously about for emphasis. “I am trying to create an atmosphere that says, ‘I may have only one friend who is not a dumb jock, but that is not the whole me! I may love baseball and longboarding, but I also enjoy the finer things in life! Like this nice cheese! I enjoy discussion about physics! I could enjoy a nice game of chess!” After this impassioned speech Thor just stands there holding the plate as it drips onto the floor.

Now Heimdall is looking at Thor like he’s crazy. “You enjoy discussions about _physics_? You might enjoy _chess_? Thor you have never taken a physics—”

Heimdall suddenly stops talking, a realization dawning on his face that makes Thor say, preemptively, “No, no. That’s not—”

“It is!” Heimdall says. “Thor! Thor. I thought you were over him! I thought you said it was ‘just a small crush, no need to worry.’ And now you are throwing an _entire party_ and inviting _the whole school_ in the hopes that _one nerd_ is going to show up!”

“That’s not—I am not throwing this party hoping he will show up! I just think that I _may_ have an image around school as a dumb jock who likes to party, and I am trying to correct that, and show that I am a multifaceted human being with varied interests, not all of them sports.”

“And you think the best way to do that is to throw a party with cheese plates,” Heimdall says, giving Thor a blank look.

“I—you know, I invited Bucky, whose boyfriend is Steve Rodgers, who is very much a nerd. See. I’m _expanding_ my _social circle_. I’m opening myself up to new friendships and possibilities! Parties are a _great_ way to do that.”

“Parties are a great way to pine for the whole night wishing a certain someone named Bru—” before Heimdall can even get the name out, Thor has put his hand—the one that’s not still holding the plate—over Heimdall’s mouth.

“I told you that in confidence, Heimdall!” Thor says. Heimdall’s instinctual reaction to Thor putting his hand up over Heimdall’s mouth is to sucker-punch Thor right in the stomach. This causes Thor to drop the plate, so that right as Valkyrie and Carol open the front door they hear the sound of glass shattering dramatically on the kitchen floor. Both Heimdall and Thor stand frozen in the kitchen for a moment, just looking at the pieces of broken plate.

“Well there wasn’t anyone else around to hear me say his name!” Heimdall says, finally. Then, to contradict his point that he was keeping Thor’s secret, he yells out, “Valkyrie, Thor is pulling a full-on Gatsby to try and get Banner to notice him!”

Carol peaks her head in the kitchen doorway, contemplating both the mess and Thor himself. “Oooh, Banner, as in Bruce Banner?” she asks. Valkyrie walks into the kitchen, completely undeterred by the broken glass, which crunches under her feet as she goes to reach into the fridge and grab a beer.

“Do you want a beer, babe?” Valkyrie calls to Carol, who nods. Valkyrie then throws a can of beer without warning. It gets dangerously close to Heimdall’s face, but she has good aim, so it misses and Carol catches it without a problem. Valkyrie then turns to Thor.

Thor seems to have been going quickly through all five stages of grief, because he moves right past being embarrassed about Carol now knowing the truth of his affections and asks her, hopefully, “Oh, do you know him?”

Carol shakes her head. “Not really,” she says, opening her beer. “I’ve just heard the name. I think we have mutual friends or something on Facebook. Nick Fury, maybe? He knows _everyone_.”

Thor sighs, looking dejected. Heimdall decides that if no one else is going to bother to clean up the broken plate, he will. No one else seems to notice.

“Thor met Banner in one of his sociology classes last semester, but Banner’s a physics major, so they haven’t really seen each other around since,” Valkyrie explains to Carol, taking a large swig of her beer. “Plus, Thor and Banner don’t really run in the same circles. So he’s been desperately trying to find someone who’s a friend of a friend that can help, like, reunite them.”

“Yes, Thor described his circle as being full of ‘dumb jocks,’” Heimdall says from where he’s crouched with a dustpan and broom.

Valkyrie punches Thor in the arm. “Hey, I’m a _smart_ jock! Although maybe not, if I keep hanging out with all of you. Thor, I’m telling you, you should have just asked for his number when you had the chance. Just send him a dm on instagram or something. This whole meeting through a friend of friend thing isn’t going to happen. And this whole Gatsby party scenario _really_ isn’t going to happen. Although if it’s what’s been getting you to throw more parties here recently I guess I can’t really complain.” With that, she takes another large swig of beer.

Thor rubs his arm where she hit him. “Ow,” he says. “I can’t send him an _instagram dm_. That’s not _romantic_ , Valkyrie.”

Valkyrie rolls her eyes. “Oh my God, fine. Continue pining after some nerd and throwing parties where the whole school besides him comes. See if I care.”

Heimdall finishes cleaning up the plate and stands up, dumping it all in the trash, then goes over to the fridge and gets a beer, holding it out to Thor, “Here. Have a beer and forget about it for a while.”

Thor looks affronted. “I just donated blood, Heimdall.” He then looks around the room at all three of them accusingly. “You know, in the group text I _specifically_ said we would be having _hot chocolate_.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I came prepared for that too,” Valkyrie says, then reaches into her pocket and pulls out a tiny bottle of peppermint schnapps. Carol kind of giggles into Valkyrie’s shoulder.

“And you say you’re not a dumb jock,” Thor says. “You know, if I were dating Banner, I bet _he_ would just actually play Dead of Winter with me without needing to bring schnapps into it.”

“If you were dating Banner you’d be roleplaying as some guy who wields a huge hammer in some D&D game or something,” Valkyrie counters.

“That doesn’t sound that bad,” Thor says. “I think I’d look good wielding a hammer.”

“Yeah, and I’d look good riding a flying horse,” she replies, rolling her eyes and making her way towards the living room, Carol and Thor behind her. “Let’s get that board game set up.”

“Dead of Winter isn’t even less nerdy than D&D,” Heimdall says kind of quietly to himself, but then he follows everyone else into the other room.


	3. In Which Bucky Gets Some Pottery Done and Learns Some Russian Curse Words

Saturday, the morning after getting his blood drawn, Bucky wakes up to find that Steve has already gotten up, gone out into the city to find some really good bagels, and brought them back. He’s sitting in bed next to Bucky literally reading the _New York Times_. Upon seeing this, Bucky groans and shoves his face back into the pillows. “An old man!” he says, “I’m dating an old man!”

“I’m not old,” Steve says, offended, and then folds his paper neatly in half before setting it down, as if to contradict himself.

“Yes you are,” Bucky says, sitting up and holding up a finger. “You: one, got up before the crack of dawn—”

“I got up at 8:30,” Steve says.

Bucky ignores him, continuing and holding up another finger. “Two, you are literally reading the _New York Times_. _No one_ our age buys a physical copy of the New York Times to read for fun on a Saturday morning.”

Steve looks very offended. “I’m doing the crossword. It’s way easier to do the crossword with the actual paper.”

Bucky ignores him again. He knows what will really set Steve off. “Three, you have the health of an old man and the face to match.”

Before Bucky can even register what he’s doing, Steve has climbed over to the other side of Bucky, a hard task in a dorm-room bed, and pushed Bucky to the floor. “Ha! Could an old man do that?” Steve asks triumphantly.

“You’re insufferable,” Bucky says.

“But I bought bagels.”

“So I guess I still love you after all.”

After helping himself to about three bagels, Bucky makes his way to the art building so he can get some extra time spinning in. He’s not expecting many people to be there, because they just had the pottery version of a midterm last week, meaning they had to turn in a whole bunch of pieces. Bucky wasn’t very proud of his, so he wants to spend some time working where he won’t feel embarrassed by everyone else doing better all around him. He makes his way across campus with his headphones on, listening to Sokro, one of the artists off his playlist only half-jokingly entitled, “Lo-fi Hip Hop Beats to Chill and Make Art To.”

When he gets there, instead of finding the room empty, he sees that the redhead who’s always muttering in Russian next to him is already at a wheel. Not only that, but she already looks frustrated. Bucky makes the executive decision to keep his headphones on, smiling briefly at her before getting to work. She doesn’t even look up. Just as well.

About half-an-hour in, though, she leans over and taps him on the shoulder. She’s glaring, and at first he’s afraid he’s somehow done something to offend her. But after he takes his headphones off warily, she just says, “Can you tell me why my pots keep coming out lopsided?”

“Um.” He doesn’t want to tell her no, he can’t, because she seems very pissed off, but he also is not the best person to ask about this. “Did you make sure the clay was centered when you started?”

“I don’t know,” she snaps. Then she takes a deep breath. “Sorry. I just hate this class.”

“Why are you taking it, if you hate it?” Bucky asks. Maybe it’s rude to ask her that, but Bucky’s never been big on social graces, and he’s been curious about her for a while, if he’s being honest.

She sighs. “My therapist told me I should get a hobby besides throwing knives. Also, she said it would be good for me to try something I wasn’t good at for once. I kind of think my therapist’s a shithead.”

Bucky would think she’s joking, but she looks so serious as she says all of it. He raises his eyebrows at her. “Knife-throwing. Well, I want to help. But as you can see, pottery is kind of kicking my ass too.”

“You’re better than me,” she points out. He has to admit, after looking between their two pieces, he is definitely doing better. His is a bit lopsided, but hers is downright abysmally off-center.

“Okay, yeah yours does look like shit. And mine looks amazing. I’m a veritable master of pottery.”

“Shut up,” she says, but she’s kind of laughing now. 

Bucky doesn’t _really_ want to interrupt his solitude to help this random girl. He likes doing art, even art he’s bad at, but he likes doing it by himself. But he’s kind of scared that she’ll lose her shit and end up breaking one of the pottery wheels or something if he doesn’t intervene. Plus, he somehow finds her charming. “Tell you what,” he says. “I will do my best to bestow upon you my _incredible_ knowledge of the ceramic arts if you will teach me some of those swear words you’re always muttering under your breath. They’re Russian, yeah?”

She smiles a crooked sort of smile, like she kind of doesn’t want to but she kind of can’t help it. Bucky loves it. Bucky loves when people who don’t like people like him. “Yeah, okay,” she says. “I’m Nat, by the way.”

“Bucky,” he says, and they shake hands, even though it feels a little weirdly formal after all these weeks of sitting next to each other.

A few hours later, Bucky thinks he probably got the better end of the deal, because her pottery doesn’t look all that much better, but he knows a hell of lot more Russian swear words. She’s from Russia, as he suspected, even though she speaks English without an accent. When he asks her about it she just shrugs and says, “I’m a chameleon.” She tells him about how she’s an orphan who managed to get into some wild Russian private school against all odds and now she’s here. He tells her about growing up in Brooklyn. She doesn’t tell him when she got so good at throwing knives.

Their pottery may not look that much better, but Bucky’s having fun. Nat seems like she’s having fun too. Maybe more fun than she’s had in a while. She tells him that she wanted to work for the KGB when she was little, but then she realized that most governments are pretty fucked up and working in intelligence is pretty fucked up. So now she’s just a political science major so she can figure out how to fuck up the fucked up governments. He thinks she and Steve might get along, actually.

But anyway she’s taking all these crazy independent classes called like, “Conflict, Terrorism, and War” and one literally just called “Torture.” Bucky is an art major with depression who’s maybe overly fond of Phoebe Bridgers, so when he thinks someone needs to lighten up a bit, they probably _really_ need to lighten up a bit. So somehow, as they’re packing up to leave, he ends up saying, “Hey, are you going to that party at Asgard tonight?”

As soon as it’s out of his mouth, he realizes how it might sound. She raises her eyebrows and says, “Are you asking me out?”

He’s almost glad she got straight (ha!) to the point so he can say, “No, no, I’m gay. I’m going with my boyfriend. But it’d be fun to see you there. I don’t know if they’re super into knife throwing, but I think they have darts there. We can see who’s better at darts.” Actually, he thinks, maybe Thor _wouldn’t_ be so opposed to knife throwing. And maybe _he_ could learn some knife throwing. That wouldn’t be too dangerous, would it? Nat seems to know what she’s doing…

“Oh, I’m definitely better than you at darts. But yeah, maybe I’ll come.”

Bucky wonders what is up with him. As much as he likes parties, he doesn’t, like, make _plans_ to meet _friends_ at parties. Not that Nat’s even his friend. They just both hate pottery, that’s all. Bucky’s just commiserating with someone over a shared hatred, and now he might continue doing that at a party. That’s all. Besides, Nat is already walking away, so it’s too late to take back the invitation now.

***

Bucky texts Steve: _Headed back to your dorm_

 _Not in my room rn. Lib_ Steve texts back.

_:( stop studying and hang out with meeee. It’s Saturday!_

_Fine, meet you at my room in 10_

When Steve and Bucky make it back to Steve’s room, Bucky says, “We have to go to that party at Asgard tonight.”

Steve groans, but Bucky persists. “What? You like parties.”

Steve replies, “ _You_ like parties. _I_ like going to bars with our friends, or getting Chinese takeout and listening to records, or going to the movies.” Steve _may_ have landed an incredible full ride scholarship and they _may_ have set aside what he was allotted for books for movie tickets and takeout instead. They have all his textbooks available at the library. It’s fine. Steve works too hard. He needs what fun he can get. 

And it’s true, Steve does love the movies. He will watch any and every movie. He always gets a huge tub of popcorn and then eats most of it, and also a coke and frozen junior mints (Ugh. Bucky thinks they taste like toothpaste.) Steve always makes sure they get there in time for previews and he always thinks the movie is really good even if it was really, really bad.

“Okay, fine. You don’t like parties. But when’s the last time we went to a party together? We’re like an old married couple. I never get to show you off!” Bucky says. Suddenly, he knows what will do the trick. He takes out his phone and puts on Bing Crosby’s version of “The Folks Who Live on the Hill.” He knows Steve thinks it’s about the most romantic song ever written. As it begins playing, he scoops Steve up in his arms and begins dragging him around the room in an exaggerated and poorly executed swing dance. Bucky can actually do a pretty mean swing dance if he tries, but he thinks it’s more fun this way.

Steve starts laughing, and gets into it, letting Bucky sweep him up in the moment as Bing Crosby sings _Someday we’ll build a home on a hilltop high,/You and I/Shiny and new a cottage that two can fill/And we’ll be pleased to be called,/”The folks who live on the hill.”_

And then, as the song goes on, the joke of it stops, and soon they’re just slow dancing around the room. Bucky wonders if asthma’s contagious cause he can swear he feels his throat closing up from just how much he loves Steve. And he can see it, he can really see it, them graduating in a few years, and getting away from it all, and building themselves a little cottage where they’ll grow old together. He’ll let Steve play all the old records he wants and they’ll listen to baseball on the radio together as they drive their old truck into town for the farmer’s market or a movie. And he sort of laughs and little and buries his face in Steve’s neck cause he loves him so much he can’t stand to look at him in the moment.

And Steve sort of laughs too, and says softly into Bucky’s hair, “Yeah, I think a party would be fun.”


	4. In Which (Almost) Everyone Goes to the Party

Bucky and Steve order Chinese food (of course) and while they’re waiting for it to arrive the walk down the Sev on the corner and buy the second cheapest bottle of wine they can find. They split the wine and the Chinese food. Bucky worries about what to wear. When he asks Steve for advice, Steve tells him that since everything Bucky owns is black he can’t tell the difference, and then they make their way out into the night.

They can hear the party before they see it. As they make their way up the few steps to the house, it seems like everyone is inside or in the backyard except for Heimdall, who’s standing by the front door holding a beer. He’s also on the baseball team with Bucky and Thor. Because he’s already pretty drunk, Bucky says, “What are you? The bouncer?”

“Nah, man, I’m just getting some air,” Heimdall says, shrugging. He’s seemingly also pretty drunk, because he then throws his arms wide and says, “All are welcome in Asgard tonight. The BIfrost turns away no man, woman, or enby.” Then he cracks up like what he just said is hilarious. “Especially you,” he adds, winking at Bucky. Steve rolls his eyes. Bucky _may_ have drank more of the wine than Steve did.

“Alright, Bucky, let’s go mingle,” Steve says. Then, because he’s a good guy, he pats Heimdall amicably on the back and says, “Good to see you.”

As they make their way in, they don’t see Thor at first, but instantly about three different people clamber to throw their arms around Steve. He gives them all one of his winning smiles. That’s the funny thing, is that as much as it’s Bucky who loves parties, Steve’s such a man of the people. Everyone loves him.

Bucky can never walk across campus with him if he’s running late because Steve will invariably get stopped by at least three people who want to chat for twenty minutes. After they leave, Bucky will ask, “How do you even know them?” and it will turn out they were in some Environmental Rights club together two years ago, or they had lunch together once, but Steve always says, very sincerely, “Oh, they’re just the greatest.”

Bucky loves it, though. Plus he doesn’t mind Steve getting all the attention because Bucky knows he’s the better dancer. He always has that in his back pocket at parties. But he will _not_ be getting up on a table to dance because he is _not_ a sophomore anymore.

They finally make it to the backyard, where Thor appears seemingly out of nowhere with his arm around some girl. Bucky gets the distinct impression that Thor has his arm around her half as an expression of affection and half because he needs the support. Apparently getting blood drawn doesn’t do him in but enough drinks will. “Bucky! Rodgers! You’ve come! This is Valkyrie. She is my best friend, and also a lesbian.”

Valkyrie rolls her eyes. “You know, you don’t _have_ to tell people I’m a lesbian when introducing me.”

“Oh, does it bother you? I can stop.”

“No, it doesn’t bother me, I just think you’re a dork.”

“So, are all of you named after Norse gods?” Bucky asks once Valkyrie and Thor stop bickering enough for him to get a word in edgewise.

“Valkyrie isn’t technically a god. Anyway, Valkyrie is more of a nickname for me,” she tells him.

“We’ve been friends forever,” Thor tells them. “We were even in girl scouts together! I quit after like a year, though, and transitioned and named myself Thor. After that, Valkyrie just kind of stuck.” Naming yourself Thor is about the most BDE of anything you could ever do, and Bucky likes it. Also, if there is anyone that deserves the name, he’s pretty sure it’s this guy. Thor continues, “Valkyrie was also _the best_ girl scout you’ve ever seen. She was like the eagle scout of girl scouts.”

“That’s not how girl scouts work, Thor,” Valkyrie tells him, but then she turns to Bucky and Steve and adds, “But I _was_ a very good girl scout.”

“You don’t even _understand_ how good of a girl scout she was,” Thor tells them, leaning in close and sounding almost menacing. Bucky isn’t sure he _wants_ to know.

“And Heimdall’s name?” Bucky asks.

“Oh, that’s just a coincidence,” Thor tells him.

There’s a lull in the conversation, during which Valkyrie takes a swig out of a whiskey bottle that Bucky hadn’t noticed she was holding. Up till now, Bucky had been under the impression that she hadn’t really been drinking, but eying the bottle, he sees that he may have been _very_ wrong. She’s generous, though, holding out the bottle and asking, “Anyone want some?”

“Sure, thanks,” Steve says, taking a swig, then making a horrible face and coughing a little.

Bucky pats him on the back. “More of a wine or beer guy,” he says. “So, what do you do now that you’re not girl-scouting?”

“Oh, I run about the most kick-ass sorority on campus. We’re called the Valkyries.” Okay, naming an entire sorority after yourself is perhaps equally BDE as naming yourself Thor. Bucky loves these people. He hopes Nat will get here soon. This seems like the perfect atmosphere for knife throwing, especially now that Steve has had some whiskey. Bucky squints at Valkyrie. “Has anyone ever told you that you look _exactly_ like Tessa Thompson?”

She laughs. “Yeah, I get it a lot. But thanks.”

“Great cheese plates, by the way,” Steve says.

“See?” Thor says to Valkyrie. “What did I tell you?”

They go their separate ways for a while – Thor says something about wanting to make sure he hasn’t missed greeting any of the guests, and Valkyrie gives Thor some kind of look that Bucky can’t quite read. But then she says she wants to go look for her girlfriend anyway, so Thor and Valkyrie disappear into the crowd.

Bucky vapes, and Steve tries to tell him that he shouldn’t vape. In the middle of their argument, this really annoying engineering major named Tony decides he needs to be a part of the conversation and steps in. Turns out he has a lot of opinions about vapes. Tony and Steve met at the gym (where no one should ever meet another person, in Bucky’s opinion.) One time they were both working out and Tony overheard Steve telling someone he has to limit how much he lifts on account of his pacemaker. Turns out Tony has one too, and so he decided he and Steve should be friends.

Only Tony does that whole masculine bravado thing that Steve doesn’t do, and it turned out pretty quickly that they didn’t get along, but now they have like a weird frenemies thing going on where they always try to outdo each other at the gym and then compare notes about workout strategies after. The whole thing is insufferable.

Sometimes, when Bucky meets Steve at the gym to go get dinner or something afterwards, he has to see Tony smirking and getting into the BMW his daddy bought him. When Bucky complains about this, Steve tells Bucky that Tony’s dad is dead, actually, so maybe he shouldn’t say things like that. “What?” Bucky says. “It’s not like _I_ killed him.” Steve’s weird frenemies thing would almost make Bucky insecure, except for that Tony is the straightest man alive and also Bucky is in a loving relationship built on trust.

When Tony interjects into this particular conversation, it turns out that he’s on Bucky’s side of the argument. He even pulls out his own vape, and it turns out that he has the exact same one as Bucky. Steve is delighted. “Aw, look at that, matching vapes,” he says and gives Bucky a sickly-sweet look that makes Bucky want to kill both Steve and Tony. 

Eventually, they extricate themselves from the Tony conversation, make some small talk with a few people they know from class, and have a few more drinks. They run into Steve’s friend Sam, but he has some big Psych lab he has to do tomorrow, so he leaves pretty quickly. Just when Bucky is starting to get a little bored of the party, he spots a small redhead come through the backyard gate, dragging a bored-looking blonde guy behind her. The blonde guy is, in turn, holding the leash of an enthused golden retriever.

“Steve, look!”

Steve’s eyes light up, “A dog!”

“Yeah, well, I more of meant it’s that girl Nat. But yeah, a dog also!” They make their way over to Nat and her friend.

“Hey!” Bucky says. He has to shout a little to be heard over the noise. The backyard is still pretty crowded despite the fact that it’s well past midnight. “You don’t use front doors?”

“I don’t like ‘em,” Nat shouts back, offering no further explanation. “This is my friend Clint. He was kind enough to come with me even though he hates parties. He’s hard of hearing and his hearing aids don’t really work in places like this.” As she says this, Bucky notices that she’s signing to Clint, presumably letting him know what she’s telling them. Clint waves awkwardly.

Bucky waves back, then says, “Oh, shit, that sucks. I wish I knew sign language, but I don’t. But my boyfriend does! This is my boyfriend, Steve. Will you tell Clint I say hi and sorry about convincing you to come to this party?”

Nat laughs and signs to Clint. Clint signs back, and she tells Bucky, “He says it’s fine. He likes when I owe him one.”

Steve introduces himself to Nat and Clint, talking out loud and signing at the same time. Steve of course asks if he can pet Clint’s dog. Clint signs yes, and adds that her name is Lucky the Pizza Dog. They make the obligatory small talk where everyone asks what each other are majoring in. Clint says he’s majoring in “street fighting and archery,” which makes everyone laugh, and then he fails to elaborate on what his real major is.

At the mention of “street fighting and archery,” Thor pops up again, with Valkyrie and someone who Bucky assumes is her girlfriend trailing behind. “Did someone say Street Fighter? I love that video game!” Thor says excitedly.

“Kind of,” Steve says, and explains the joke.

Once Thor gets clued into the fact that Hawkeye’s hearing aids aren’t working in the party atmosphere, he goes, “Oh, but I totally have a brilliant idea! I have the original Street Fighter in my basement, which is blocked off right now so that no one breaks the TV. So if we go down there we can play Street Fighter and Clint will be able to hear everyone!”

Everyone agrees – most of them look pretty relieved to be getting away from the party, except for Valkyrie, who looks longingly back over her shoulder as her girlfriend tugs on Valkyrie’s jacket. Bucky wasn’t expecting to get swept up in such a big group of people. He likes parties, but he’s usually more of a small talk kind of guy, moving from one group to the next pretty quickly. This whole “hanging out with the host of a party in the host’s secret basement” thing is new to him.

The basement is about what you’d expect from a partyhouse basement – bad lighting, beat up couches, a few scattered posters on the bare concrete walls – except that the TV is really nice, and Thor has about a million gaming systems to go with it as well. He pulls out a Nintendo switch and goes about trying to find the controllers while Clint switches on his hearing aids and Valkyrie introduces everyone to her girlfriend. “This is Carol. She’s my girlfriend and also she builds her own airplanes.”

Bucky is immediately intrigued. “What?”

“Valkyrie is kind of exaggerating,” Carol explains. “But I have my pilot’s license and I’m a welder. I work down at the Air and Space museum, where I help maintain old birds.” Bucky is _delighted_ that she just called airplanes “birds.” “And I theoretically know how to build one from scratch. That would take a hell of a lot of money, though. But I do make models. My goal is to be a consultant for movies with historical airplanes in them, and also to become a stunt pilot.”

Steve immediately latches onto Carol. They claim one of the couches and start talking about a lot of World War II airplanes that Bucky knows nothing about. Thor has finally gotten Street Fighter set up, and he and Valkyrie are kicking the badly-animated shit out of one another. Bucky easily convinces Nat and Clint to teach him knife throwing. Not wanting to be a bad house guest, Bucky turns to Thor before they start. “Thor! Can we throw knives at your wall?”

“Of course!” Thor tells them immediately without taking his eyes off the game. Bucky is a little worried that Thor and Valkyrie are only a few more bits of trash talk away from actually throwing down in this basement. On the one hand, he’d love to see that. On the other hand, he’s worried it’ll get in the way of his knife throwing. Steve and Carol don’t so much as look up from their historical plane conversation.

They all do their own thing for a while, Thor and Valkyrie occupied with Street Fighter, Carol and Steve still deeply engrossed in their conversation about planes. Bucky is doing pretty well with the knives, actually, although not compared to Clint and Nat, who both seem to have near superhero levels of perfect aim. He can feel the wine warm in his blood, and despite himself he finds that there’s something really comfortable about being sequestered in this room with these people when he knows there’s a whole huge party going on upstairs. As Nat throws her knife in a another perfect arc, Bucky looks over at Steve, so engrossed in the details of old airplanes. Bucky yells, “Nerd,” affectionately from across the room, just because he can. _That’s my boyfriend over there, on the couch_ , he thinks. _That’s my boyfriend and he’s a nerd and I love him!_

After he yells this, Thor replies almost like a reflex, “Hey, nerds aren’t all bad.” As he says this, he doesn’t take his eyes off the T.V., but then Valkyrie gives him a look and he blushes a deep red. Bucky has the feeling that what might have been just an off-hand comment definitely has some important context for the two of them. This feeling is immediately underscored when Valkyrie doesn’t let the comment drop.

“Oh?” she says to Thor, turning her eyes back to the game even as she lays into him. “Are nerds not all bad? Why are you defending nerds all of a sudden?”

“I’ve always defended nerds,” Thor tells her, looking genuinely affronted.

“Yes, but is there maybe… one particular nerd you have in mind this time?”

“Thor,” Bucky says, abandoning the knife throwing for the time being and heading over towards the couches. Normally he might stay out of teasing a guy he barely knows, but he’s drunk enough that he desperately wants to know what’s going on. “Please,” he says, “for the love of all things baseball tell me who this nerd might be.” Nerd is… not what he imagined Thor’s type would be. He goes and sits next to Steve on the other couch, then leans forward to look at Thor imploringly.

Thor puts his head in his hands just as Valkyrie defeats his character in-game. Nat and Clint are still throwing knives at the wall, looking quite content. But Carol and Steve have let their conversation trail off and are now also looking at Thor expectantly. “I’m not going to talk about this. It’s beneath me. I have to keep my dignity.”

Valkyrie laughs at him and takes another swig of whiskey. “You lost your dignity about three games ago, when I got a perfect victory. C’mon, tell them. I bet none of them even know him anyway.”

“Yeah, c’mon Thor,” Bucky implores. “We’re cloistered away from a party, meeting in a secret room. This is some sort of secret society shit here. Your secret is safe with us.” Hmm, how many drinks has he had and how many more times can he say secret?

“Fine, fine,” Thor says. Bucky gets the impression that he’s the kind of guy who’s really bad at keeping secrets, even his own. “I’ve been wanting to get this burden off my chest anyway. Do any of you perhaps know the scientist… Bruce Banner?” Bucky has noticed that the more Thor drinks, the more regal he acts.

“Bruce!” Nat says, spinning around clutching a knife in each hand. After a second she seems to realize that this might look a little alarming, and she lowers them as she says, “I know Bruce! Why are we talking about Bruce?” She and Clint make their way over to the couches, both leaning on the back of the one where Thor and Valkyrie are sitting.

“Thor looooves Bruce,” Valkyrie says as Thor hides his head in his hands again.

Nat’s eyes go wide. “Ooooh. Interesting. I wonder if you’re his type. How do you even know him?”

Thor sounds dejected as he mutters into his hands, “He took Sociology of Science with me last year because he wanted a break from all his brilliant physics classes.”

“Wait, why did _you_ take Sociology of Science last year?” Bucky asks.

“I’m a soc major.” Thor says, as if it’s obvious. Again, not what Bucky would have pegged him for. Apparently tonight is all about discovering Thor’s hidden depths, that is, his interest in sociology and nerds. “Anyway, that’s beside the point. What could a brilliant man like Banner see in a guy like me?” Bucky thinks it’s equal parts weird and endearing that Thor’s referring to his crush by his last name.

“Thor. You’re an amazing baseball player with, if you will excuse my saying so, an amazing body. You let a bunch of near strangers hang out in your secret basement. You’re a catch,” Steve says, with an earnesty that could only mean he must have had another swig of Valkyrie’s whiskey at some point.

“Why don’t you just do the brave thing and ask him out?” Nat says.

Bucky shushes her. She let him throw one of her knives earlier, which probably means they are best friends and he can do things like shush her now. He will deal with the implications of having potentially _made friends_ with all these people later. “Don’t be mean, Nat. The man’s obviously distressed. Help a buddy out. He let you throw knives at his wall.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine, I’ll talk to him.”

“Can we _pleaaaase_ talk about something else other than my nonexistent love life?” Thor says.

Valkyrie shrugs. “I could go back to kicking your ass at a game you own and I’ve only played once.”

“Please,” Thor says. “I would love that.”

***

The next morning, Bucky wakes up to see that Steve most definitely did _not_ get up at the crack of dawn this time to buy bagels and a paper. In fact, he is drooling on the pillow next to Bucky. Bucky does what he always does to wake up his gorgeous boyfriend with whom he is very much in love: he elbows him hard in the side and yanks all the blankets off him.

“Aeeugh,” Steve says, blinking up at Bucky then covering his face with his pillow. “I remember why I don’t like parties. Why did you let me drink so much, Buck?”

“Don’t look at me. I don’t even know how much you drank. It honestly seemed at the time like you were more intoxicated by Carol’s knowledge of World War II airplanes than alcohol.”

“Airplanes,” Steve mutters in the pillow. Bucky waits for him to expand on that thought, and he does not.

It takes a while, but they finally motivate themselves to head across the lawn to the cafeteria which is conveniently located near Steve’s room. One of these days, Bucky is going to have to make it back to his off campus apartment and stop stealing Steve’s somewhat-ill-fitting clothes. But today is not that day. They arrive just before the cafeteria stops serving brunch, which is to say, at 2 pm in the afternoon.

Bucky gets himself two cups of coffee and a muffin, but after Steve gives him a _look_ he gets a shitty cafeteria bagel and some bacon as well. Steve’s plate is piled high with eggs, bacon, and pancakes, and he gets an earl grey tea which he adds lots of almond milk to. Bucky rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe you eat bacon but you don’t drink milk.”

Steve fake pouts. “Milk hurts my stomach,” he says, then does this thing where he clutches his belly in mock-pain, almost as if he’s been shot, then almost drops his tray. Steve can be a real dork sometimes. But he straightens up when he spots Valkyrie sitting in a corner table across the room. “Let’s go sit with her, Bucky,” he says.

Bucky makes a face. “You’re hung over and yet you _still_ want to try and make new friends this early in the morning?”

“It’s 2 pm, Bucky.”

“Yeah, but I just woke up.” When he sees the sad face Steve is making at him, though, he groans. “Okay, fine, yes, let’s go sit with her.”

When they set their trays down, Valkyrie is looking very perky and put together. She’s dressed in an all-white track suit with a baseball cap to match and munching on some bacon. In fact, her entire plate is just bacon, and she’s got what looks like a disposable coffee cup next to her. “Hey guys,” she says. “Rough night?”

“Are you not hung over? How are you not hung over? I hate you,” Steve says. Bucky holds back a laugh. He loves hung over Steve.

“You can’t get hung over if you never stop drinking.” She winks at them, then holds up her cup. “Mimosa,” she says, and he can’t tell if she’s joking or not. Just then, he feels his phone vibrate, and he pulls it out to see a text from Nat. When did he enter her into his contacts? Is it possible that she took his phone and did it herself sometime last night? It says: _Lunch in caf @ 12 tmrw? Ill bring Brucie boy w/ mee :)_ She texts like some sort of weird combination of an 40 year old and a 12 year old trying and failing to be hip. He shows the text to Valkyrie, who nods and says she’ll bring Thor.

Sheesh. He was nice to Nat once and suddenly he’s having _breakfast_ with people and making _lunch plans_. Still, Thor seems like a nice guy, and since they’re on the team together and all he figures he can help him out in finding gay love or whatever.

 _Affirmative_ , he replies to Nat. Okay, maybe he texts a little weird too.


	5. In Which Bruce Agrees to Get Lunch With Nat and, Unknowingly, Thor and Everyone Else As Well

Bruce is a little wary when Nat pops up at his side seemingly out of nowhere and asks him oh-so-casually if he wants to have lunch with her today. He and Nat hang out a lot, but they don’t usually have lunch together. They both have erratic sleep schedules, and tend to spend most of their time together in library study rooms at 1 am. They usually start out helping each other diagram physics problems or political science essays and end up diagraming some wild conspiracy theory or trying to explain memes to one another. They occupy very different online spaces, the memes of which always confuse the other person. Anyway, he’s pretty sure that for lunch she usually goes off campus to this little Russian Deli with Clint.

Despite not often getting lunch together, Bruce and Nat really are close, though, to the point where Nat actually asked him out last semester. When Bruce turned her down, Natasha had taken given him this super serious look and said, “Is it because… you know I can never have children?” and before Bruce could even think about how to answer that she started laughing like a maniac. “Just kidding! I mean, I really am infertile, but can you imagine?” She had then launched into the whole story about how she even found out she was infertile, meaning it took Bruce a long time to get the conversation back on track and tell her that he was gay.

He’d actually been wanting to come out to her for a while – he’d only realized that he was gay since getting to college, and if he was being honest he didn’t have that many friends. The only other person he’d told was his cousin Jenn, who was off at law school. He thought it would be nice too have someone on campus know as well.

What he hadn’t realized was that while he’d been thinking, “Oh, here’s someone who I’m close enough to that I feel comfortable telling her I’m gay” she’d been thinking they were getting close in an entirely different way. But it was actually pretty typical of their friendship that all in one conversation she’d asked him out, sidetracked everything explaining that she was infertile, and then he’d still decided this was the right moment to come out to her. She’d taken it really well, and if anything they’d been even closer since then.

Still. Going back to the lunch issue. Although they’re good friends, they don’t tend to get lunch together, and so whenever Nat _does_ want to get lunch it tends to because there’s something she wants. In fact, they originally met because she needed after-hours access to the physics building and somehow knew Bruce was the one to ask. He’s not even sure why he helped her, really, and to this day he doesn’t actually know what she needed it for. He thought it was best not to ask. He also decides it’s best not to ask how she seemingly knows his exact schedule this semester, since she showed up right as he was getting out of class even though he doesn’t think he ever mentioned where or when Electrodynamics II was to her.

But Bruce decides pretty quickly that it would probably do him some good to actually eat in the cafeteria with another person today instead of going straight to the library to work. So he agrees pretty readily and they make their way across campus. “So, what’s all this about?” Bruce says. “Just want to catch up with your old buddy?” _Your old buddy?_ he thinks silently to himself. _Ugh! It’s probably good she’s kind of weird because otherwise I don’t know why she’d hang out with me._ Bruce doesn’t know how he manages to be so awkward even while having a conversation with someone who is arguably one of his closest friends.

“No. Well, I mean, yes, Bruce I did want to see you. But also, I made friends! Well, friends besides you and Clint of course.”

Bruce has to hold back a laugh at the way that she says this, so proud of herself and seemingly oblivious to the fact that other people might feel embarrassed that they’d had to wait till they were a junior in college to feel that they could proclaim they’d made friends. Still, he has to admit, while he is at once overtaken with the fear of sitting and eating with a bunch of strangers, he’s also intrigued to see who it is Nat’s made friends with.

What he’s not expecting is… a HUGE table full of people in the cafeteria, but that’s exactly what Nat leads him towards. He recognizes most of them, and almost none of them are who he’d expect Nat to get along with. Well, besides Clint, who’s there in his usual sweatpants eating his usual unbalanced meal. It’s literally just a plate full of french-fries with ketchup drizzled straight on them. But then there’s also Bucky Barnes, Steve Rodgers, Sam Wilson, Valkyrie, Heimdall, and – is that Thor?

Bruce hasn’t seen Thor till last semester. He figures out, what, like a year ago, that he’s gay? And then of course the universe throws him into a class with a guy who not only looks like a god but who also turned out to be shockingly articulate? Bruce spent most of the class being quiet, not just because he wasn’t used to taking sociology classes, but also because he was afraid of saying something dumb and embarrassing himself in front of Thor.

He hadn’t thought he’d been making much of an impression on the guy at all, but about halfway through the semester, Thor disrupted the unspoken seating chart and started sitting next to him. Every day he’d come in, clap Bruce enthusiastically on the back, pull out his notes, put on his glasses (yes, he wore glasses, and yes, they looked to-die-for on him) and begin taking notes, and not another word would pass between them.

Bruce had spent the entire semester silently pining – there really was no other word for it. But he had been too awkward to say anything, and so when the class had ended, he hadn’t thought anything more would come of it. He’d even started going to baseball games, something he hadn’t really had any interest in before then, just to watch Thor. But he always got there late and sat way up at the top of the bleachers where he couldn’t be seen.

As he and Nat approach the table, Bruce has a moment of blind panic, wondering if he’d gotten drunk and told Nat about the crush, then forgotten the next day. But he told himself he’s being ridiculous. Yes, Thor is here, and yes, it’s a little weird that Nat and Thor are apparently friends now. But there are also a lot of other people at the table. He knows Nat, and he doesn’t think she would be voluntarily spending her lunch with _all_ these people just to try and set Bruce up with Thor. He looks over at her, and she smiles up at him innocently, so he decides that he’s being paranoid.

That still doesn’t erase the problem that he _is_ going to have to eat lunch with Thor and probably actually make conversation. Nat has already found her way over to Clint, and of course the only other open chair is right next to Thor. The only problem is, Thor has his back turned to Bruce and is listening intently to a story that Steve is telling. Not wanting to interrupt, Bruce decides that the best move is to just stand kind of awkwardly behind Thor, waiting for Thor to notice him so he can move his chair and make enough room for Bruce to squeeze in at the table.

“And then Bucky convinced me that the best solution was to break into Sam’s second story dorm room – _from the outside_ ,” Steve is saying.

“Hey, I was all for getting a ladder. _You_ were the one who said, ‘No, it’s fine, I can just stand on your shoulders,” Bucky says.

“So, yes, that is the story of how I broke my arm last year,” Steve finishes.

“This might be the wrong reaction to that story, but I would _love_ for Thor and I to face you and Bucky in a chicken fight someday,” Valkyrie says.

At this point, Bucky finally looks up and notices Bruce standing there. “Hey! Bruce, right?” he says. _How does he know my name?_ Bruce thinks. He knows Bucky, of course, because he’s seen him at games, but he hopes Bucky hasn’t noticed him hanging around at games where he doesn’t really know anyone. Oh well. He realizes he’s just been staring at Bucky, so he gives a little awkward wave.

“Yeah, hey,” he says. “I’m Nat’s friend. She invited me to lunch.”

By this point, Thor has turned around. “Banner! Bruce! Bruce Banner!” he says, sounding genuinely very happy to see him. Bruce can feel his ears turning pink even as he reminds himself that Thor says pretty much everything with the same level of extreme enthusiasm.

It seems to take Thor a minute to realize that he’ll have to stand up in order for Bruce to sit down. There’s a minute or two of awkward scooting around, but then Bruce is seated at the table. For a second, he feels like everyone is staring at him, but then Valkyrie starts telling Steve and Bucky about how she thinks she’d be really good at giving stick and poke tattoos, and Bruce tells himself he’s being paranoid again.

“So,” Thor says. “It’s been a long time.”

“It sure has,” says Bruce, and then they sit there kind of not saying anything for a minute. Bruce has forgotten every topic of conversation that ever existed. Finally, he says, “How’s, uh, how’s the whole baseball thing going?”

“Oh, good, good. We really have an upstanding team this year.”

Bruce kind of nods, and Thor nods back. _This is excruciating,_ he thinks. _I’m dying, I’m actually dying._ It’s not that he didn’t want to talk to Thor. It’s that he _did_ want to talk to Thor so badly that he now found himself with nothing to say. After a minute he adds, “It’s the American pastime, baseball.” _The American pastime? What am I talking about?!_

“It truly is. Glad to carry on a fine tradition. Are you a fan yourself?”

“Yeah,” Bruce says. 

At this point, Bucky interjects into the conversation, something for which Bruce is at first profoundly grateful. But then he asks, “Bruce, when did you get into baseball? Do you play? Do you have a favorite team?” He says it all very nicely, but Bruce can still feel himself start to blush.

“Well, I kind of got into recently. I don’t know…” he says. He’s really not about to bring up the fact that he’s only into baseball because he’s into Thor.

But then Thor surprises him by asking, “Would you… like to come see one of our games next weekend?” He adds, “It’s not the best baseball has to offer, but if you are new to your appreciation of the sport, it might be fun to see some friends play.”

“Yeah!” Bruce says, then realizes how enthusiastic he must sound and adds in a more even tone, “Yeah. I mean, yeah. That would be great.” _Is that a date?_ he thinks. _Did Thor just ask me on a date?_ But he has to remind himself that he doesn’t even know if Thor’s bi or gay or whatever, and also that asking someone to come “see some friends play baseball” is not the same thing as asking him out to dinner or coffee or something. Still, Bruce is so flustered from being invited to do _anything_ by Thor that he says, “Yeah. I really. I just have to get back to the lab now,” even though he’s only been sitting there for probably ten minutes. “Lunch was great! Great to meet you, Bucky, everyone,” he says, grabbing his tray, then almost dropping it before making his great escape.

Nat must have seen him leave, because she runs to catch up with him, not out of breath at all even though Bruce must have made it almost all the way across the quad before she realized he was gone. “Well, I thought that went well,” she tells him.

“You thought what went well?” Bruce asks.

“Oh, don’t play coy with me,” is all she says in return.

***

Back at the lunch table, Clint looks a little bummed out that Nat just ran off without him. Although, on second thought, Bucky thinks, the guy always looked just a little bummed out. Anyway, he seems to perk up when he asks Steve is he’s going to finish his fries, and Steve says no, Clint can have the rest.

Across the table, Thor shoots Valkyrie a look that seems to plainly say, “You _cannot_ debrief with me about all that here and now. In response, Valkyrie just winks at Thor. _What is with them and all the winking?_ Bucky thinks. _Never in my life did I think I would hang out with people who wink this much._

Lunch ends without much fanfare. Most people filter out to make their way to their next class. Just as Bucky is about to walk Steve to class ,Thor grabs his arm to hold him back. Bucky gives Steve a little eyebrow raise like, _You okay to go walk alone?_ and Steve just waves a hand at him happily. He watches Steve run to meet up with Valkyrie and feels that same weird unease that he felt at the beginning of lunch.

“Bucky,” Thor says. “I owe you my thanks.”

Whatever Bucky was expecting, it wasn’t this. Maybe a “Do you think he likes me?” Maybe a, “I forget when our next practice is.” Not Thor _thanking_ him.

He’s so surprised that he just blurts out, “What?”

“I want to thank you. If you hadn’t brought your friend Nat to my party on Saturday, none of this would have happened. Bruce and I are reunited, and now he’ll see me play baseball. Maybe I can show him how to properly grip a bat afterwards.” Are Thor’s eyes getting a little _misty?_ “Not like that,” Thor quickly adds. “I just would genuinely love to instruct him in proper baseball technique. I think he has the heart of a warrior somewhere in him.”

Literally _what_ is happening in Bucky’s life? He helps one person with their pottery and now he’s running late to class because this guy wants to properly thank him about potentially setting him up with the love of his life or whatever. Bucky can’t handle this. “Yeah man. Sure. No problem. Glad to help,” he says. And then he gets the hell out of there.


	6. In Which Thor Freaks Out In Valkyrie’s Kitchen and Sam & Steve Get Stoned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: some mentions of disordered eating

Thor is freaking out in Valkyrie’s kitchen. He _told_ her he was just coming over here to study, although she should have known that the two of them can never really get any studying done when they’re together. The instant he’d come up to her room, he’d immediately dropped both his books and any pretense he had of getting work done. Instead, he’d flopped down onto one of the ratty beanbags she really kept meaning to throw away, literally threw one arm over his face, and moaned, “What am I going to _dooo_?”

“Yeah, hi to you too. My day was good, thanks for asking. What are you going to do about what?” she asked him, looking up from were she was reading on her bed and nudging him with one of her feet.

“The gaaame,” he said.

“I think you’re probably going to play it. And then hopefully by the end you’ll have won.”

Thor peaked out at her from behind his arm reproachfully. “But _he_ will be there. Banner’s going to be there, watching me!”

“Yeah, so play extra good.”

“You are NOT helpful at ALL. When do I talk to him? Do I talk to him before the game? Do I talk to him after? Do you think he’ll sit near the front of the stands? Do you think I can ask him to go get ice cream afterwards? Do you think it’s too juvenile to ask him to get ice cream? What if he’s lactose intolerant? Or a vegan. Oh, _god_.”

At that point, it had become clear that Valkyrie was not going to be getting any more work done for a while (even though she _really_ had women’s studies homework that needed completing) and also that Thor needed to be calmed down. “Okay, we’re going to go into the kitchen and I’m going to make you some tea.”

Valkyrie didn’t believe in drinking tea, really, but she knew some of her sorority sisters did. She wasn’t above stealing a decaffeinated tea bag or two at times like this when Thor needed some. She probably could have kept some on hand for him, but buying decaffeinated tea was not something she was prepared to do even for her best friend.

So, Thor is freaking out in her kitchen and she is looking through her sorority sister’s tea collections. She avoids all of Wanda’s loose leaf stuff because you really never know what sort of weird herbs with unfortunate side effects Wanda has on hand at any given time. Instead, she goes for Some of Kamala’s peppermint tea and sets the electric kettle to boil.

Drinking his tea only calms Thor down slightly, though. Valkyrie is, if she is being honest, just a little bit exasperated. She is not really the person to come to for advice about things like this. She’s always been pretty confident. She asks someone on a date, and they say yes, or they don’t, and if not then she moves on with her life. Again, if she’s being honest, they usually say yes. Plus, she’s been with Carol for a while now, so she hasn’t had to deal with this sort of thing in a minute. So she tries to be sympathetic, but what comes out is, “Oh my God, Thor. You are a big man on campus. People love you. I’m sure Bruce loves you too. I _saw_ the way he was looking at you at lunch the other day. Calm down. Ask him to ice cream. Yes, that’s pretty juvenile, but I’m sure he’d be into it.”

Thor sighs, “But that’s just the point. Yes, I’m a big man around campus. Yes, all the people love me. But I don’t think that’s what Bruce is _into_ , you know? And I feel like, I don’t know. I came to college and was good at sports and longboarding and had a name like Thor, and I feel like people had this image of me, all of a sudden. And I don’t want to disappoint people! But I think sometimes I kind of play into it, or, I don’t know. Get stuck in it. And I want him to see the real me.”

Okay, Valkyrie kind of gets it. The problem is, she’s pretty happy with being a big name on campus. She feels at once like her persona kind of really _is_ true to who she is, anyway. And she has enough friends and a girlfriend who she can be herself around that it doesn’t bother her. But she reminds herself that she met Carol outside of school, outside of the context where she already had this big reputation. So she can see how that might be hard for Thor.

“Thor, I think part of the reason you even like Bruce is you know you can be yourself around him. I think just have to stop trying so hard. I _saw_ you guys just sitting there not talking about lunch. Stop thinking about what to ask, and just ask him questions. Stop thinking about what to say and just say it.”

“You’re probably right. You just make it sound so _easy_ to do when really it’s not.”

“Well, if you want, I can clock you over the head with a bat before the baseball game starts. Concussed you should have no problem relaxing and saying whatever comes to mind.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet, Valkyrie. Thank you, really,” he says sourly, but then he laughs, and Valkyrie smiles and tells him the air hockey table is working again and would he like to lose a few games to her?

***  
Steve gets out of class hoping to see a text from Bucky, but when he pulls out his phone the only message he has is one from Sam that says _We still on for tonight?_ Steve sighs. He’d forgotten that he made plans with Sam yesterday to celebrate Sam’s huge psych lab finally being done by getting really, really high.

The last time Steve saw Bucky was Monday afternoon, at lunch with everyone. It’s now Wednesday afternoon. Bucky has been begging off meeting up for meals, claiming that he isn’t hungry or saying he needs more time in the studio. Steve has been doing his best to give Bucky _space_ , but it’s rare for them to go longer than a full day without seeing each other. Plus, Steve _knows_ Bucky probably hasn’t been eating too well, and he can’t help worrying.

Steve looks back down at his phone. It’s four now, and he isn’t supposed to meet up with Sam until eight. Since Bucky’s apartment is only a fifteen minute walk from campus, that gives him plenty of time to go over there and get back to campus in time to not flake out on Sam. He really _does_ want to see Sam. He just wants to make sure his boyfriend isn’t sulking too much first.

Steve texts Sam back. _Yeah, see you soon :+)_ He makes sure to include the nose in the smiley face because he _knows_ how much it annoys Sam. He doesn’t text Bucky. Steve’s almost positive Bucky’s at his apartment, and texting him will just give Bucky another opportunity to tell Steve not to come over. So instead, Steve just pulls out his headphones, puts on the greatest hits of the Andrew Sisters, and starts walking.

Fifteen minutes later, and Steve is outside the door to Bucky’s apartment. He enters without knocking. As he does so, Bucky’s roommate, T’Challa, quickly pauses whatever it was he was watching and looks over at Steve, clearly surprised to see him. Steve squints at the T.V.

“Is that… The O.C.?” Steve asks.

T’Challa nods guiltily. “Yes. In my defense, I am trying to immerse myself in as much American culture as possible so that I can have the full study abroad experience.”

T’Challa is here as a study abroad student from a top University in Wakanda. Although he’s much too polite to ever say it, Steve can tell from the way T’Challa sometimes talks about his classes here that even this pretty good American university doesn’t compare to the education he’s getting back home. Steve also knows that T’Challa is the literal prince of Wakanda. T’Challa tried to keep it on the d.l., but rumors were already circulating weeks before he even arrived on campus. It was only a few months ago that Wakanda revealed to the wider world how technologically advanced they were and began to be more open about their governmental system. But a few months was more than enough time for rumors about who the hot young prince of Wakanda was to make their way to American college students.

Steve’s also pretty sure that T’Challa’s friend who’s always hanging around trying to look casual, Okoye, is actually his bodyguard. Although she’s young enough to hypothetically be a college student too. Anyway, Steve’s pretty sure the study abroad is more about T’Challa honing his princely grace in foreign countries or something than it is about the education. Steve has to say, T’Challa’s princely grace doesn’t really need any more honing. Bucky loves to tease Steve that T’Challa is the only person more polite than Steve.

The only person who T’Challa isn’t polite to, actually, is Bucky. It’s funny that the two of them even became roommates in the first place. Steve’s pretty sure T’Challa could be living in the dorms (the school does their best to accommodate foreign exchange students in getting priority housing), or, seeing as he’s a prince, in some pent house or something. But before the semester started, T’Challa was on the housing boards looking for a fellow student to get an apartment with. This, too, is probably because he wanted to get the most out of his foreign exchange experience. Bucky’s old roommate was moving out, and he was desperate to snag somebody so he wouldn’t have to pay a full month’s rent himself. T’Challa and Bucky didn’t talk much before they decided to move in together, and the results were, at first, terrible.

Steve can still remember the first time he met T’Challa. He came over to see Buck, and T’Challa had only been moving in for a few hours, but he swore Buck and T’Challa already had this wild animosity between them like one of them had personally wronged the other’s family or something. When they went into Bucky’s room, Steve had tried to ask Buck about it, but all he would say was, “He asked me to turn down my music and I refused.”

“That can’t possibly be it, Buck,” Steve had said, but Bucky had merely shrugged. “Why didn’t you just turn it down anyway?”

“It’s the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday, Steve. The guy can deal with it.”

“Yeah, well maybe he wanted to take a nap or had a headache or something,” Steve had countered.

“Well he didn’t _say_ that to me,” Buck had replied.

For a few weeks after this, T’Challa and Bucky had circled around each other like two angry cats in the apartment. Okoye and Steve, on the other hand, had immediately gotten along, and even commiserated about how ridiculous T’Challa and Bucky were being. It had taken their joint effort to convince Bucky and T’Challa that maybe the other person _wasn’t_ so bad, but now they got along. They’d bonded over a mutual love of the Digable Planets; after that, T’Challa had introduced Bucky to a lot of really cool music from Wakanda (“My little sister Shuri is really the one who keeps me up to date on all this stuff,” he’d admitted.)

Now, whenever Steve comes over the two of them are usually in the living room listening to something on the _very_ nice speakers that T’Challa brought with him. T’Challa would be doing engineering homework, Bucky working on some art project, each of them looking up every so often to make some jokingly disparaging comment about the other’s chosen major. Steve’s pretty sure that it’s actually pretty high praise that T’Challa isn’t polite to Bucky, instead maintaining this joking animosity. The only other person T’Challa acts like that with is Okoye. Steve thinks T’Challa probably relishes the relationships where he doesn’t feel like he has to maintain Prince-worthy composure. And Bucky loves relationships where he feels like he’s the exception to someone’s rule. It’s probably another bad sign about Bucky’s state of mind that today, when Steve arrives at the apartment, Bucky isn’t hanging out with T’Challa.

As Steve is busy worrying about Bucky, something he knows he does too often, Okoye comes in the front door, and Steve moves out of the way. She’s wearing workout clothes, and when she sees T’Challa over on the couch she rolls her eyes. “I _tried_ to get him to come to the gym with me,” she tells Steve, “but he refused. This semester abroad is really going to make you lose your edge, T’Challa. Keep this up and when I finally get you to train with me again you’ll have no chance of winning.”

“I’m studying American culture,” T’Challa tells her. “Besides, you usually beat me even when I _have_ been training.”

“The O.C. _is_ an American classic,” Steve says in T’Challa’s defense. Then, not wanting to get embroiled in an argument that could potentially get heated, he adds, “Is Buck in his room?”

T’Challa nods, giving Steve a knowing look. Steve sighs and heads down the hallway.

When he opens the door to Bucky’s room, he sees Bucky lying on his bed looking sulky, and is immediately greeted by the sounds of The National. He goes over and takes the needle off the record - because of course Buck’s listening to it on vinyl - and sits down on the bed beside him.

“I’ve told you a million times that listening to The National when you’re depressed isn’t going to help anything,” Steve says.

“Who says I’m depressed?” Bucky says. When Steve doesn’t reply, he adds, “Anyway, you know I’m literally always depressed as I am, in fact, diagnosed with clinical depression.”

“You know what I mean, Buck. You’re locked in your room with the shades drawn.”

“The door wasn’t locked, obviously, if you’re in here,” Bucky says. Steve sighs. Bucky is extremely good at avoiding the heart of any discussion that he doesn’t want to have. So instead Steve just gets up and pulls up the blinds, then opens the window, wanting to at least let some air in.

“What’s going on, Buck?” Steve asks.

“Nothing much, how about yourself?” Bucky says amicable.

“Did you go to baseball practice yesterday?”

“Did you switch bodies with my mother yesterday? Because that’s who you sound like right now,” Bucky counters.

“Nah, your mom would have already forced you to eat at least one full meal by this point in the conversation,” Steve says, which makes Bucky finally smile a little bit. “Seriously though, what’s up? I had lunch with Nat and Thor yesterday and they both asked about you.”

This seems to be the wrong thing to say, because Bucky just makes a face and turns away from Steve. Apparently, he’s really not going to talk about what’s wrong. So Steve decides to take a different approach: that is, to go and cook enough food to last Bucky through the apocalypse and stick it all in his fridge so maybe he’ll eat something. When he goes back out, he notices that Okoye has in fact joined T’Challa on the couch, but has made him change the show to _The Fresh Prince of Bel Air_.

T’Challa looks up at Steve and says low so Bucky doesn’t hear, “It’s really not that bad, Steve. I got him to watch The O.C. and eat some takeout with me yesterday. Despite appearances, he has not just been in his room this whole time.”

“That’s good,” Steve says, and then not knowing what else to say about it to T’Challa, he starts cooking. After a minute, T’Challa asks him about his classes and seems to actually care when Steve starts rambling about this one class called Water and the American West, which segways into a discussion about water allocation in current-day California and its influence on the State of Jefferson movement, and of course by the end of the discussion T’Challa and Okoye are horrified once again by the state of American politics and Steve is wishing his country could take, oh, about a billion notes on Wakandan ones.

Talking politics makes Steve feel better and worse at the same time, like it usually always does. By the time he’s put all the soup he’s made into containers and said goodbye to Bucky (who is being as sulky as he was when Steve got there), he’s actually really glad he didn’t cancel on Sam. Yeah, he might have about one hundred and fifty pages of reading that he needs to do for tomorrow, but sometimes you just have to say “fuck it” and smoke a joint with your best friend.

When he arrives, Sam already has the joint rolled. Steve knows this is because it still takes Sam about a million years to roll one, even though he’s been smoking for about just as long. If he does it in front of Steve, Steve always lets him have it. “It’s an art form!” Sam always tells him. “ _Your_ joints never burn well so don’t act like you have the upper hand in this argument just because it only takes you about two seconds to roll one. Efficiency is not the only thing that matters.”

Steve throws his books and shoes on the floor and the two of them sit on Sam’s bed with the window open and Stevie Wonder on. They turn off Sam’s overhead dorm light so it’s just the white Christmas lights that he has up illuminating the room. Sam thinks the lights are corny, but he put them up anyway because his girlfriend Claire likes them. Steve personally loves them, and is glad for Claire’s influence on what would otherwise be Sam’s slightly stark room. Posters of airplanes alone do not a homey atmosphere make.

They watch a few cat videos on youtube. Steve knows Sam secretly loves them just as much as he does, but he can usually only convince Sam to watch them when they’re both high, so Steve’s gotta take every chance he gets. Steve does his best to just enjoy the evening and not worry about Bucky, but because Sam is Sam and also Steve’s best friend, he eventually picks up that something is wrong.

“You seem tired, man,” he says. “Is something up?”

Steve considers not telling him, but he really does want to talk about it if he’s being honest. “It’s just Bucky,” he says. “He’s depressed about something and he won’t tell me what and he was avoiding me.”

“That sucks,” Sam says. “How long was he avoiding you for?”

Steve gets kind of embarrassed. “Well, just like a few days, really. We had lunch together on Monday and then I didn’t see him again till I went over to his place this evening.”

Sam gives Steve a _look_ before he even says anything. “So that’s, what? One full day of not seeing each other?”

“But when I went over there he was literally lying in his bed listening to the National with his shades drawn. He wouldn’t talk to me about whatever’s going on with him,” Steve says.

“Yeah, okay, that’s not ideal. Isn’t he seeing that therapist now, though?”

“Yeah.” Steve and Bucky are both seeing counselors through the school. “That doesn’t mean he’s automatically going to get better, though.”

“I know,” says Sam. “But spending a few days listening to the National with the shades drawn, while not a great idea, isn’t the end of the world. I think at a certain point you have to start to trust him, Steve. I know you guys grew up together and everything, and have seen some shit. And it’s good of you to check in on him when you know he might not be doing so good. But you can’t fix his depression for him. It’s not up to you to always make everything better. Maybe it’s… not good for either of you if you run in and try to save him every time he’s depressed.”

“I know I can’t fix his depression, Sam. I’m not trying to run in and save him. It’s just… even when I had nothing, I had Bucky.”

“I know. I’m glad you guys had each other through everything. But the thing is, you don’t _just_ have each other now, you know what I mean? Like, you have me. Bucky has T’Challa. You’re both in therapy. And yeah, that doesn’t mean he’s automatically have only good coping mechanisms, or never need support. Everyone needs support, whether or not they have depression. Back in high school, you guys dealt with so much, and you didn’t have therapists and didn’t have as many friends. But now you have more ways to deal with problems. Like, maybe sometimes Bucky needs to be alone. Maybe sometimes it’s good for him to get a text from you so he knows you’re thinking about him, that he can reach out if he needs to. But maybe sometimes he needs to spend time with himself. Maybe he needs to sulk and listen to the National and not eat enough without you coming in to stop him, so that he figures out that, yeah that doesn’t actually solve any of his problems, and figures out what he can do to make himself feel better next time.”

Sam continues, “Like, for so long you guys only had each other. I know that’s hard. But now you’re building this whole new support network. Thor and Nat and Valkyrie and all those guys! And that’s super cool, but also probably pretty weird to get used to.” He takes a breath. “Okay, holier-than-though speech done now.” He punches Steve lightly in the arm, then leans into him a little. “Basically, I’m sorry Bucky’s been going through shit again, and I know it sucks, but I really think you two are gonna be okay.”

Steve’s stoned, so he just sits there for a while and lets his brain take in everything Sam said. Sam’s cool, so of course he doesn’t freak out that Steve isn’t saying anything after Sam just gave that whole speech. Coming from anyone else, the speech might have annoyed Steve. But he and Sam are close enough that Steve knows that when Sam gets like that he should maybe actually listen to what the guy has to say. Finally he says, “Yeah, it is scary. My therapist… may have used the word ‘codependent’ once or twice when we’ve talked about me and Buck.”

Sam laughs but doesn’t say anything. Steve continues. “Buck’s always teasing me about how many people I know, about how I’m friends with the whole school. But I don’t know. My mom brought me up with good manners. I’m good at getting along with people. I have a lot of acquaintances. But Buck’s the one who makes real _friends_ , you know? He’s more hardheaded than me, which somehow makes him more charming, in the end. He’s compelling. People want to get to know him, like _really_ get to know him. And now he’s got all these new friends. Thor and Nat and everyone, like you said. It’s kind of weird for me. And maybe it’s weird for him too, I guess.”

“I think you should give yourself more credit. People really like you too, Steve! But yeah, I do know what you’re saying. Bucky’s a charmer for sure. But just because Bucky has all these new friends doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate you anymore! Don’t make me start listing all the reasons I appreciate you as a person.”

Steve can feel his ears turning pink at just the threat. He gives Sam a gentle push. With Sam, it doesn’t feel like a macho thing, a “we are two men so we can only touch each other through small acts of violence” thing. It feels, especially when they’re stoned, more like they’re little kids wrestling. When you’re young, you end up with all these emotions at once, and you don’t know what to do with them so you have to let them out in some physical way, like wrestling. So anyway, that’s what it’s like with Sam. It’s giddy and affectionate and a little bit antagonistic all at once.

Steve realizes that when he came to college, he didn’t know Sam at all. And now Sam is the only person in the world who can make him feel this _light_. He loves Bucky, of course, but their relationship is very different, always a little bit more serious even when it’s fun. He realizes that sometimes when he has a problem it’s Sam he wants to talk to, and not Bucky, but that doesn’t mean he loves Bucky any less. He realizes that sometimes when he has a problem he doesn’t even want to talk to anyone, he just wants to go to the gym.

So yeah, maybe Bucky will be alright. Maybe they’ll both be alright. Maybe, sometimes, things are all right.


	7. In Which Bucky Decides to Stop Listening to the National

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that last chapter/this one are Stucky heavy, but I promise Thor/Bruce will be back and get their time in the sun!

So Bucky _may_ have been sulking in his apartment for like three days and ignoring his boyfriend and avoiding his roommate and ignoring all other texts from people. The thing about it is, it’s really over nothing. Like, he had lunch with some people who he realized considered him a friend, and one of them said “thank you,” and he realized they were maybe starting to place just the tiniest importance on the relationship and that was too much for him and he freaked out? Cool cool cool.

The whole thing is so ridiculous that it only makes everything worse. It’s ridiculous that he missed class Tuesday because of one lunch with some friends, which only makes him feel worse, which means he missed class Wednesday too. And then Steve came over, because of course he did, and the whole thing is too ridiculous for Bucky to talk to him about. So instead Bucky lies in bed and listens to National.

The thing is, Steve isn’t the only one who noticed Bucky was M.I.A. He looks down at his phone, at the messages he’s read about a hundred times already and has not replied to yet.

From Nat on Tuesday afternoon: _Where were u today? R you sick? Class was shit w/out u. Too sad to even curse in Russian. :(_

From Thor Tuesday evening: _Hello, Bucky. This is Thor. I got your number from Nat at lunch today. I hope you do not mind. The team suffered greatly from your absence today. I hope you are not too sick. I have a great regimen for regaining health if you are interested. I am hoping to see you on Thursday practice because it would make me proud if our team could do its best at the game this Saturday. This is for no reason in particular but also may involve the potential presence of a certain scientist. But of course do not over excerpt yourself if you are truly sick. Please let me know if you need any help, like for me to carry you to the nurse’s office. You already know that I am very good at carrying people ;) - Thor_ As depressed as Bucky was, the fact that Thor had included a wink even in his text had to make him smile just a bit.

From Nat Wednesday afternoon: _look it’s fine u didn’t reply 2 my text yesterday bcs. I do not trust SMS that much either BUT Thor was sad today that u weren’t at practice && ur bf looked sulky too when u weren’t at lunch again today but he wouldn’t say what was up w/ u i trust he did not poison u. Let me know if he did i will retaliate. ANYWAY this text is just to say u better not be dropping out of pottery or i will come kick ur ass even if ur actually sick AS WELL xoxo NAT_.

Never before had Bucky missing a mere two lunches and a class or two elicited a text from anyone but Steve. He knew he could just tell them all he was sick, but he didn’t want to go through the conversation that would follow, where they would try to do things like him bring him soup or something and he’d have to fend them off. The whole thing was too embarrassing.

He waits until he hears T’Challa go to bed, then creeps out into the kitchen to eat some of the food Steve had left. It is, he has to admit, very good, but that fact is watered down by his embarrassment that his boyfriend had to come cook for him to coax him to eat enough. He sets his alarm that night, already half planning to sleep through it.

Thursday morning, when his alarm went off, Bucky lays in bed not wanting to go to class and then feeling bad about not wanting to go to class which makes him not want to go to class even more. After ten minutes of this thought loop, though, he takes a deep breath and thinks about what he’d talked about with his therapist last week. _Don’t look forward to the whole day. Set a small, realistic goal for yourself. See how you feel after that._ He can do that. It _will_ feel good to brush his teeth. Bucky will get out of bed, brush his teeth, and then see how he feels.

He decides that he also does _not_ need to listen to Alligator by the National for the fifth time in two days. Looking through his phone, he sighs and presses his “Jams” playlist. Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s “Can’t Keep Checking My Phone” comes on, and he brushes his teeth, and then he really does feel better. Bucky decides that going to class and dealing with seeing Nat will actually probably be better than not going to class and dealing with Nat’s text messages.

The walk is just long enough for a pit of dread to form in Bucky’s stomach, but it dissipates when he walks into the studio and takes his usual seat. He’s a minute or two late, but his professor doesn’t care in the slightest, not even really looking at Bucky as she keeps lecturing. And when Nat leans toward him to whisper something, it isn’t a concerned, “How are you?” Instead, she just gives him an excited little, “Hey!” before turning back to the lecture. The rest of class is fine. Bucky realizes that it may have only been two days, but he missed Nat’s cursing.

With this in mind, Bucky fights his instinct to bolt after class, guessing that Nat will probably catch up with him even if he does. Instead, he falls into step with her. “Are you going to the cafeteria?” she asks. He nods. Looking down at his phone, he sees a text from Steve. _I’ll be in the cafeteria for lunch at 12:30 today with a few people if you want to join! Hope your day is going good. Love you <3 _.

 _I’ll be there. Love you too._ he replies.

“So,” Nat said. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. She nods. He likes that she takes what he says at face value. Maybe she can tell that, to Bucky’s surprise, he actually means it.

She adds, “I know I can come on a little strong at times. Sorry if like all the lunches and knife throwing and texts were a bit much.”

Bucky just shakes his head. “I think I’m genetically wired to only be able to friends with people with strong personalities,” he says, which earns him a small laugh from her. After that, they drop the conversation and fall into complaining about how hard pottery is. Bucky realizes that making friends with people doesn’t mean they have to jump straight to painting each other’s nails and telling each other secrets. They can complain about class and get lunch together sometimes and throw knives when they’re in the mood. And maybe one day they can tell each other secrets. Or maybe not. 

When they reach the cafeteria, Bucky sees Steve is sitting with just Clint. Natasha nudges him and laughs a little, and he can see why, because they both look so awkward, although Steve is doing a better job of hiding it. As Nat and Bucky make their way over to the table, they can hear Steve asking Clint about his bow preference, and Clint’s actually getting pretty into his answer. But they still both look relieved when they look up and notice Nat and Bucky have arrived. Bucky is once again a little thrown by the weirdness of seeing Steve thrown together with Clint, of the four of them sitting down to have lunch together, but he takes a deep breath and tells himself that one lunch isn’t the end of the world.

They talk about really just nothing stuff, actually. Nat and Bucky continue complaining about their pottery class, Steve asks their opinion about some _New York Times_ article that none of the rest of them have read, and Clint tells some wild story that reveals that while he may not be majoring in street fighting, he actually did get into a lot of it in high school.

Eventually, Nat and Clint make their way to their next class, but Bucky knows Steve doesn’t have one until three, and he’s out of class for the day. “Do you wanna come back to my room?” Steve asks. Bucky nods, and they hold hands on the way, which is nice.

“Sorry about going M.I.A. for a minute there,” Bucky says awkwardly when they get to Steve’s room. He takes Steve’s desk chair and sits in it backwards, resting his chin on his arms and looking out at Steve, who’s sitting over on the bed. When having any sort of difficult conversation, Bucky needs the space.

“It’s okay. Sorry about showing up at your place unannounced. I don’t know if you wanted space, I should have texted first or something. I know it was only like a day or two that we hadn’t talked,” Steve says.

“No, it’s okay, it was nice. That soup you made was good. I don’t know. Maybe I did need a little time to myself. But I still should have texted and let you know.”

Steve laughs. “You should have texted, I should have texted, we all should have texted.”

“Such is modern life,” Bucky adds. There’s a lull in the conversation, and Bucky knows that Steve is probably giving him _space_ to talk or not talk about his feelings. “Yeah, you know. I just freaked out a little about. About maybe. Having friends.”

“You have friends, Buck. Sam and T’Challa.”

“Yeah, but you know Sam is really more your friend. And T’Challa. Well, you know, he lives with me. All two of my friends are people who were sort of forced to have their animosity toward me become loving animosity.” Before Steve can protest again, Bucky adds, “No! It’s okay, I love it, I love me some gentle animosity. That’s the thing, is… I’m really good at the frenemies thing, or whatever. Having just, like, pure, unadulterated friendships is scary. And good. And yeah anyway I guess I should have talked about it with you but. Here we are.”

“You don’t have to talk about everything with me immediately,” Steve says. “I don’t know. You can take some time to think things over. You can listen to the National if you want. Just let me know what’s going on eventually, yeah?”

Bucky nods. He feels proud of himself for getting up today, and going to lunch, and having this _talk_ about their feelings. Really, he’s gonna tell his therapist and his therapist is gonna give him a gold star or something. But even though he feels like everything should slide back into place, he looks over at Steve and can tell that there’s still something he wants to say. Now it’s his turn to be quiet and wait. Steve can be a real delicate flower sometimes.

Steve says, “I think it’s good for us, actually. You meeting all these people. And, I like them too, but I also think it might be good for us to have our own relationships with people. Do you know what I mean. I think –” Steve pauses again before he says, “I think I might do something with Sam, Saturday. Instead of going to watch the game? Just because you’ll have everyone else there. I mean, obviously if you’re nervous about it and want me to come, I will. And I’m not saying I don’t want to watch your games in the future. Just –”

For a second, Bucky’s hurt. But then he thinks about it, Steve smiling and cheering in the stands even though he can’t play, even though Bucky knows he wants to play. And then he thinks about Steve and Sam being off doing something that’s very them. He pictures them at the carnival on Cony Island, actually, even though he knows that it’s nothing like when they were kids and that they’re all the way across the country from it now anyway. Still, the image kind of stays in his mind, and he thinks maybe he gets what Steve was saying. “Yeah, no, you should do something with Sam. We’ll hang out afterwards, right?”

Steve looks so relieved that it makes Bucky feel even better about saying yes. “Yeah, no, totally, we will definitely do something after,” he says.

Bucky pulls out his phone, scrolls through his contacts and hits “Nat”: _You’re coming to the game Saturday, right?_ he says. He feels nervous, and he doesn’t know what answer he even really wants back. He gets up and goes over to Steve, and just as he’s snuggling in to Steve’s side he feels his phone vibrate. Pulling it out, he’s got three new messages from Nat.

_He’ll yea. See u there :)_   
_*He’ll_   
_OH, whatever. This is what happens when I try 2 curse in English_


	8. In Which It’s The Day of the Big Game

Bruce is pacing around his room, palms sweating, trying to decide what to wear. It’s the morning of the game, and he’s freaking out just a bit. He’s busying going through his t-shirts one more time when he hears a knock on his door.

For a moment his heart soars and his stomach drop all at the same time as he instinctually thinks, _Is that Thor? Is Thor coming to pick me up for the game? He didn’t SAY he was coming to pick me up for the game_. When he opens the door, it is, of course, not Thor. It’s Nat. She’s leaning casually in the doorway, and when he opens it she walks into his room before Bruce can ask why she’s here. “Ugh, really, a poster of the periodic table of elements? When did you get that? Don’t you have that all memorized by now anyway?”

“No I’m – what do you think physicists _do_ , Nat? Also, what are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were coming over!”

“Sure I did!” she says brightly, going over to his closet and beginning to riffle through it. Bruce looks down at his phone and sees that Nat texted him two minutes ago: _omw over xox Nat :)_ He sighs.

She holds up a plain black t-shirt. “I think you should wear this one,” she says.

“You think everyone should wear all black all the time. I really shouldn’t have been surprised that you and Bucky became friends.”

“Everyone looks good in all black, Bruce. Are you telling me that you have any better idea of what to wear?”

“I guess I don’t, no. I want to look good, but casual at the same time.”

“Black,” she says pointedly.

“Wait, why are you here anyway? Thor didn’t invite you to the game.”

“Rude,” Nat says, and Bruce realizes that it probably did come across that way, even though he’s just genuinely curious why Nat has set aside her Saturday to watch baseball. _Bruce_ wouldn’t have set aside his Saturday to watch baseball if it weren’t for Thor. Nat continues, “Are you saying you don’t want me to come? Plus, Bucky _did_ invite me.”

“No, I’m not saying – just, why are you in my room? You know I can get dressed for a baseball game by myself, right?”

“Yes, but I figured you might want some help getting ready for this one.”

“And why do you think that?” Bruce asks in what he hopes is his most innocent voice. He doesn’t know why he’s even bothering to keep up the ruse of not having a crush on Thor anymore, really. It’s just that he’s gotten so deep into it _without_ mentioning it to Nat that now the thought of revealing the depth of his feelings is overwhelming. He can’t believe he’s gotten this way over someone that, in all actuality, he hardly knows. And yet…

Nat, of course, is having none of it, making a face at him that reminds him Jenn in middle school. “You are _so_ bad at lying, Bruce. I know you have a huge crush on Thor, duh. And he’s interested in you too, for you information.”

“I –” Bruce is about to protest when he takes in all of what she just told him. “Wait, he’s interested in me? How do you know?”

“Well, one, I have a pair of human eyes,” Nat says, giving up looking through his closet and sitting down on his bed instead. “And two, he mentioned it when he was drunk at a party.”

“Drunk at a party? Did you go to one of his parties without me? I thought you didn’t _go_ to parties!” Bruce knows that might sound a little mean, and normally he wouldn’t phrase it all exactly like that but he’s just a little flustered from learning all this an hour or so he’s supposed to go actually see the guy play baseball. He’s half trying to find pants to match the black shirt, half just pacing around the room.

“You never _asked_ me to go to one of his parties with you! I didn’t even know you liked him until I saw acting like an idiot with him at lunch the other day! Why didn’t you go to one of his parties?”

“Well, I didn’t know if I was invited,” Bruce says.

“That’s not how parties like that work, Bruce.”

“Well, I know, but I couldn’t show up there by myself and then just hang around not knowing anyone.”

“You could have asked me to go with you,” Nat says.

“Well, like I said, I didn’t know you liked parties.”

“Well, for your information, I do go to parties, when Clint and I are not too busy eating ramen and watching true crime documentaries. Bucky invited me.”

“Sheesh. Are you and Bucky best friends now?”

Nat shrugs. “I dunno.”

“Look, anyway, fine. That’s good. That’s great. He seems like a real upstanding guy. But also. _Thor likes me?_ Are you sure?”

Nat rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. What are you going to do about it?”

“Hmm. Um. Well.” Bruce just stands in the center of his room for a minute, looking helplessly around, as if the answer to all of his problems will somehow materialize. “I don’t know. I could bring him flowers?”

Nat laughs. “ _Flowers_? Like you do for people who are in plays?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know! This is kind of my first date, Nat!”

Nat’s eyes go kind of wide. “Oh, I wasn’t even thinking about that!”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I realized I liked guys, oh, about a year ago, which in some ways feels like it’s been ages to not date anyone but in other ways feels like two seconds ago! So, kind of freaking out about the possibilities of actually being in gay in practice, and not in theory. I’m good at theory, Nat. I’m not good at the real thing. So, uh, I’m fighting my instinct to run for the hills, or, more specifically, my lab, and never emerge again. So, I figure if I’m gonna go for it, why not go all out? Why not get the guy flowers? He seems to like big gestures. So, flowers, yeah?”

Nat nods. “Yeah. I think flowers.”

***

Thor is driving Bucky absolutely crazy. He’s usually a bit too hurrah-hurrah, team spirit for Bucky on a normal day, but today he is amping it up to the nth degree. It’s to the point where even Heimdall, who is supposedly one of Thor’s best friends, is shooting Bucky looks that say, “Kill me.”

Bucky could leave it alone, of course. He’s sure Thor’s nervous energy would eventually work itself out sometime over the course of the nine innings. That kind nervousness is just unsustainable. On the other hand, if there’s anyone who has the stamina to be on edge for all nine innings of a baseball game, it’s Thor. Plus, Bucky’s decided that he’s friends with these people, so, ride or die and all that. Resolutely, he makes his way over to Thor as the warm-ups are winding down and he can finally get the guy alone.

“Thor, buddy. Whoa. Okay,” he says. “You a little nervous about the game?”

Heimdall’s made his way over by this point too. “Yeah, Valkyrie and I have been dealing with this energy for a few days now,” he says, not unkindly.

“You know Bruce doesn’t actually care if you lose the game, right? I’m pretty sure that’s not why the guy is into baseball. He’s just here to see you,” Bucky says.

“That’s just it, though!” Thor says. “Win or lose, I want to be giving my peak performance!” Bucky is pretty sure Thor is the kind of guy who would talk about his sick gains un-ironically. In fact, he’s shocked it hasn’t come up before now.

“Hmm. Uh. Has it occurred to you that he doesn’t really know the difference between, say, your peak performance and just your pretty good, average performance?”

As Bucky says this, Heimdall nods encouragingly and adds, “He seems like he has many good qualities, but a sharp eye for baseball is not among them.”

Thor shoots Heimdall a look. “You don’t know that.”

“Look, buddy, all we’re saying is that he seems to really like you, and if that’s true, it’s not gonna matter if you don’t, you know, hit a home run or whatever,” Bucky says.

Thor seems unconvinced.

Heimdall decides to take another approach. “What if,” he says, “we promise that we, too, will do our best in this game, and fight at your side as loyal warriors?”

 _Jeez, it’s just baseball,_ Bucky thinks to himself. But it’s clear Heimdall knows Thor better than him, because that’s what seems to do it. “I would be honored,” Thor says.

Oh, my god. Yeah, fine. “Yeah, me too,” Bucky says. “Valiant warrior by your side and all.” Thor gives Bucky gives Thor a pat on the back that reverberates throughout his whole body. _This is going to be one hell of a game,_ Bucky thinks.

***

Steve and Sam are going off campus, which is, sad to admit, an achievement in and of itself for them. Sam wouldn’t tell Steve where they were going, though. “It’s a surprise,” was all he would say. It was moments like this that Steve could see why Bucky tended to jokingly called Sam “your other boyfriend.”

They’ve been on the bus for a while, and Steve has mostly just been teasing Sam about what he’s going to do for Claire and his six month anniversary. “Not all of us can be the romantics of the century, Steve! I don’t know, damn! We’re gonna get a nice dinner or something. Maybe see a movie! She’s pre-med, she doesn’t have time for theatrics.”

When they finally arrive at their destination, Steve feels like he should have known the whole time. “A bookstore? Oh, Sam, you shouldn’t have.”

“I won’t even complain if you linger in the historical biographies section for over an hour,” Sam said, grinning. “I, for one, will be checking out the comic book and mystery novel sections.”

They spend a good two hours in the store. It’s a multi-story bookstore, one of the things Steve loves best about this city. It’s also one of the things he loves best about Sam. They don’t follow each other around the whole time, but every twenty minutes or so one of them will wander over with some find to show the other. “Steve, look, this book has Fantastic Four #52 in color! I can’t decide whether to get this one or the one with Galactus’s first appearance.” Or “I’ve always wanted to read Anna Karenina but I can’t decided if I should get the new translation or the old one.”

He and Sam often spent time like this, ones where they don’t need a constant stream of conversation. They like to go off and do their own thing, but they also always check in, wanting to know the other person’s opinion. They also (almost) always knew what to tell each other. “Oh, get Volume 3 for sure. The whole Silver Surfer arc is just too classic.” Or, “Stick with the old one. I read a New York Times Book Review that said the new couple were good translators but I’ve heard other stuff that says they aren’t as true to the text.”

They leave the bookstore having spent probably too much money and make their way to one of those movie theaters where they let you sit in actual couches. Sam wants to go see the new Transformers movie. After getting some Thai food, they finally find their way back to campus, both still feeling the glow that being out in the city can give you, having forgotten that they ever have tests or homework or anything else to do besides discuss the finer points of a Fast and Furious/Transformers crossover.

***

As soon as they actually get to the game, Bruce realizes that the problem with bringing flowers is that there is no way to be subtle about it. He can’t really hide them, and so he will have to hang onto them for all nine innings until he can hand them over, meaning that everyone around him will know that he had deigned to bring flowers to a baseball game.

“C’mon, let’s go sit with Valkyrie,” Nat tells Bruce as he stands surveying the bleachers. He’s too nervous to look behind him and find Thor. The thought of possibly catching Thor’s eyes, or, God forbid, Thor actually _waving_ at him from the field is too much for him to bear.

“Do we have to?” Bruce says, kind of hiding his face in the flowers.

“I mean, she’s practically your sister-in-law at this point, you should get to know her,” Nat replies.

“Nat, _please_ do not say things like that to me if you want me to live.”

She shrugs like it’s no big deal and starts leading the way towards Valkyrie so that Bruce has no choice but to follow.

It’s not just Valkyrie, Bruce realizes when they get closer. Her girlfriend, Carol, is by her side.

“Nice flowers,” Valkyrie tells him, her eyebrows raised almost into her hairline. Bruce sees Carol elbow her pretty un-subtly.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks,” Bruce says, and sort of waves the flowers through the air vaguely.

“Oh, they’re starting,” Nat says, and Bruce is grateful for the distraction even if he knows by now that baseball isn’t something you can rapt attention to the whole time. At least not in his experience. Even if you think one of the players is really cute.

As Bruce turns toward the field, he sees Heimdall somehow spot him immediately, even though they’re pretty far up in the stands. _What is he, all-seeing?_ Bruce thinks to himself as he watches Heimdall nudge Thor. But then Thor waves, and Bruce, on accident, waves back with the hands that are holding the flowers. Oh well. So much for a surprise. The game is pretty fun, occasional paralyzing nervousness aside. Valkyrie yells louder than anyone else in the stands and Carol laughs at her a lot. “I think it’s her goal to be forcibly ejected from a game one of these days,” Carol tells Bruce. “She’s not even putting her all into it today, I think out of respect for you.”

“Oh, well. That’s nice of her,” Bruce says. Nat gets pretty into it too, and she invents new cheers that involve Russian swear words which Valkyrie picks up on pretty quickly. Thor is playing really well. Even with his limited knowledge of baseball, Bruce can see that. Heimdall and Bucky seem to have this weird energy. It’s hard to see from the stands, but Bruce thinks they’re giving each other increasingly complicated handshakes and then trying to teach them to Thor. For a while, Bruce gets so into the actual game that he forgets for a second he’s going to have to actually, God forbid, talk to a boy at the end of it.

***

Bucky plays a good game, the kind where he’s super sweaty by the end but in a way that feels like he’s earned it. He and Heimdall decided early into the game that the best way to show Thor their undying loyalty, besides playing well, was to invent some sort of secret handshake. Thor was not as amused as they had expected, but Bucky and Heimdall now have one totally worked out for the next time they see each other in the cafeteria or whatever. If that’s what friendship is, Bucky’ll take it.

After the game, he has some time before he has to shower and meet Steve, so he heads up to the stands to meet Nat. To his surprise he notices T’Challa and Okoye in the stands on his way up as well. “Hey you guys! What are you doing here?”

“It’s an American pastime!” T’Challa says, grinning widely while Okoye looks vaguely bored beside him. Bucky gets the feeling T’Challa came half to support Bucky, half to annoy Okoye. He was probably supposed to be in King training or something today.

“It sure is,” is all he says in reply. Nat makes her way down the stands to them.

“Bruce has gone off to claim his one true love,” she says. “Good game. Less exciting than knife throwing, but I’ll take it.”

“If only knife throwing were a regulation sport,” Bucky says, and feels genuinely wistful. Nat looks like she does too.

“You were definitely the second best out there,” T’Challa tells Bucky, and Bucky gives him a little shove. T’Challa actually starts to teeter, and looks like he might actually fall off the edge of the bleachers into the next row before Okoye grabs his shirt.

“Hmm, truly the reflexes of a king,” she says.

“I’m not king yet,” he tells her. “Careful or I’ll start making you call me ‘your highness.’” Okoye rolls her eyes at him and looks unmoved.

Bucky eventually says goodbye and makes his way home to shower. Not before he somehow ends up making plans to go get milkshakes and hamburgers with Nat, T’Challa, and Okoye a few days from now.

“You want the American experience?” Nat had said. “I know just the restaurant.”

***

Steve isn’t expecting Bucky to meet him at the bus stop, especially not looking so nice. He says goodbye to Sam, then turn to Bucky and asks, “Is that… are you wearing a suit?”

Bucky shrugs and gives him the kind of half-smile he reserves for when he is being sappy or sentimental on Steve’s behalf.

“I didn’t even know you _owned_ a suit,” Steve says.

“Well, I know for a fact that you do,” Bucky tells him, “so let’s go back to your dorm room so you can change before we go out.”

“I thought we were staying in,” Steve says, raising his eyebrows at Bucky.

“We were. Change of plans.”

It’s actually begun raining lightly out, so they stay in the dorms for a little bit before they go out. Steve makes tea and they curl up together and half watch an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, half talk about their days. Steve tells Bucky about everything he did with Sam, and Bucky tells Steve about how his game went and how T’Challa and Okoye showed up.

“But what happened with Bruce and Thor?” Steve asks a bit impatiently after Bucky’s done talking. They’re standing up to go, Steve having actually put on his suit.

“I don’t know,” Bucky says sheepishly. “I was trying to give them their privacy, and I got swept up in giving T’Challa a hard time.”

“Oh my God,” Steve says. “This is gonna kill me until I find out!”

“Calm down,” Bucky laughs. “They’re both so obviously into on another, I’m sure it will be fine.”

Even the bus kind of feels cozy in the rain. They sit in the front, which has soft pink lighting at night, something which is particular to their city and which Steve especially likes. They hold hands and share one earbud each, fighting over who gets to choose the music. Eventually they land on Blossom Dearie, because she’s Steve’s kind of music but Bucky thinks her song “I’m Hip” is endlessly funny.

Steve must have dozed off a bit, because eventually Bucky shakes him gently awake. “We’re here,” he says. They’re in a part of town Steve doesn’t usually go to, and the street they’re on isn’t one he recognizes. It’s mostly what looks like old warehouses, although he sees one bar at the end of the street. It’s like a movie, the unlit street, the rain, the golden light and soft music and sound pouring out of the building on the corner.

“What’s so special about this place?” Steve asks, looking up at Bucky.

Bucky just grins down at him and says, “You’ll see.”

As they get closer, Steve realizes that he recognizes the song. It’s “Our Love is Here to Stay” by George Gershwin. His favorite versions are Ella Fitzgerald and Dinah Washington’s, but it’s clear as they get closer that it’s a live band doing this version. Steve halts for a second, in wonder, but then Bucky laughs and grabs his hand and pulls him inside.

All around them, couples are dancing, most of them dressed in suits or nice dresses and skirts. He swears he spots a few people with real pearls or furs on. There’s old couples and young ones, and almost all of them are really, really good at swing dancing. The whole bar looks like something straight out of prohibition except for the fact that they didn’t have to go through some hidden door to get to it.

“How did you find this place?” Steve asks Bucky. “How did I not know about it?”

Bucky just shrugs and tugs on Steve’s hand. “Come dance with me,” he says.

“But – well, I don’t know how to—” Steve says.

“I do,” Bucky says, and with that he succeeds at pulling Steve onto the floor with him. The song’s not that fast, so they’re not flying around the room or anything, although Steve gets the sense that Bucky will be able to handle himself when it comes to the faster ones. Instead, they’re just kind of floating. That’s how it feels. Steve feels weightless. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know how to dance; Bucky’s doing enough for both of them, and Steve finds if he just sinks his face into Bucky’s chest, Bucky can carry them around the room. He feels almost like a little kid, has a vague memory of standing on his father’s shoes as his father whisked him around the room.

They wind their way past the other couples, the air hot and sweet with the music and alcohol and so many bodies in one room, and Steve wonders when Bucky learned how to do this. He knew Bucky was a good dancer. He’s seen that point proven many times at parties. But in the past, Bucky would always do an exaggerated swing dance, not something to write home about. Did Bucky go out and learn this? Did he always know how to dance like this but just not bring it up till now?

Steve decides the answer doesn’t really matter right now. He’ll ask Bucky later. Right now, he just settles into the deliciousness of the moment. Falling asleep on the bus, then waking up here, this all still feels like some kind of dream. The whole day has been that way, really. Heading out into the city and the ceiling high aisles of the bookstore with Sam had felt like stealing, somehow. Like they were stealing back time away from the greed and demands of classes and tests and real life. And this feels the same. It feels like they’ve found their own little pocket of forever, like this could be 1920 or 1940 or 2018 or some distant future and it doesn’t even matter. All he knows is that it’s his right now. Steve can see himself and Bucky as old men, married fifty years, telling the story of how they met, how they fell in love. Or he can see them staying like this forever, caught in some sort of suspended animation, whiskey like an amber that fossilizes, the music like the song of a music box you open to the same figures dancing every time. He closes his eyes, and lets himself get caught up in the lyrics:

_It’s very clear/Our love is here/To stay;/Not for a year/But ever and a day/…/In time the Rockies may crumble/Gibraltar may tumble/They’re only made of clay/But oh our love is here to stay_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap for Stucky! Next chapter is all Thor/Bruce


	9. In Which Thor & Bruce Get Ice Cream and Scott Lang Makes a Brief Appearance to Say, “Gay Rights!”

When the game ends, Nat pats Bruce on the back and says, “I’m gonna go say hi to Bucky. Good luck out there.”

Bruce turns to Valkyrie and Carol and says, “See ya round,” then starts walking, only it becomes clear pretty quickly that they were _also_ headed to the field. Bruce feels awkward because he’s only like two rows in front of them but he’d also be holding people up if he waited for them. _Are they also going to say hi to Thor? What am I supposed to do? Just stand there awkwardly with my flowers and wait till everyone else finishes talking to him before I go over and, what? Ask him on a date?_

The prospect of talking to Thor is quickly becoming more and more terrifying. The flowers were a terrible idea. Everyone will see him, and see the flowers, and see that he’s waiting to talk to Thor, and put two and two together. God, are people going to _watch_ while he talks to Thor? Are they going to be standing close enough to actually _hear_ him stumbling all over his words? Asking a guy out after a baseball game is the absolute worst idea ever.

But as much as it terrifies him to think about awkwardly standing around while a bunch of jocks congratulate Thor on winning the game, Bruce feels a little jump in his stomach when he lets himself picture, for a moment, what it would be like to actually be Thor’s boyfriend. Going up to Thor after the game, Thor putting his arm casually around Bruce’s waist. Standing there while everyone else pats Thor on the back and congratulates him and just a casual proximity between them that lets everyone know, even without either of them saying anything, _Yeah that’s MY boyfriend that just outshone everyone else on the field._

God, he really is in way too deep already. He needs to actually _talk_ to the guy first. He finally makes his way down the bleachers and onto the field, where he sees Thor in a huge group of jocks all congratulating themselves and each other. He’s still a little way off, but he finds himself hesitating. _I know Nat said he’s into me, but is she sure? Does he even really wanna talk to me right now?_ Valkyrie and Carol walk past him, but instead of heading towards Thor, Valkyrie screams “Catch!” and hurls herself into Heimdall’s arms, sending him toppling to the ground.

While Bruce is hesitating, watching this all go down and realizing he can’t match these people’s energy, Thor looks up and catches his eye. “Bruce!” he says thunderously, so that it can be heard above everyone else’s rambunctious yelling.

“Hey,” Bruce says and does his little awkward wave thing that he does that he _knows_ is awkward because Nat has told him so, but he can’t help it. To Bruce’s relief, Thor actually makes his way out of the crowd and over to Bruce. He’s grinning like a little kid, and while Bruce thinks it probably _mostly_ has to do with him just having won a game, he lets himself hope that a little of it has to do with Bruce.

“I, uh… I got you flowers. I know that’s not a normal baseball thing, but…” he thrusts them at Thor almost like they’re some kind of defensive weapon. Thor takes them, and as he does so, Bruce can feel Thor’s hand linger on his for a just a second longer than it probably really needs to.

“Thank you, these are beautiful,” Thor says, so sincerely that Bruce swears he nearly keels over.

“It was, uh, it was a good game,” he says, holding one head behind his head to muss up his kind of awkwardly. It’s just all awkward, everything he’s doing.

“It was indeed,” Thor says, and then they both just kind of stand there for a minute.

He’d come to the game so resolute, thinking, _I’m going to do it! I’m just going to rip the band aid off and ask him out!_ But now actually standing here in front of him, that resolve is, of course, waning.

It’s actually Thor who ends up breaking the silence. “Would you… perhaps like to go get some ice cream?” he asks.

“I would love that,” Bruce says, relieved and nervous all at once.

***

It’s just a short bus ride away, but as they disembark, it starts raining, just slightly. Bruce looks up at the sky. “Not really ice cream weather,” he laughs.

“No, I guess not,” Thor says, sounding kind of sad. “We can do something else if you’d like. I –”

“No, no, ice cream still sounds great,” Bruce says quickly. He’s a little cold, though, and as if to contradict himself, he shivers.

“Would you like my jacket?” Thor asks, and even as Bruce tries to say that really, he’s fine, Thor takes it off and hands it over.

It’s just a little too big for Bruce, in a way that’s perfectly cozy. It’s literally Thor’s letterman jacket, and Bruce almost laughs at himself. It smells great, of course, like clean laundry and old spice and vanilla. Bruce kind of settles down into it, and then all he can think to say is, “Big jacket.” _Big jacket? Big jacket? Literally WHO am I._

But Thor just laughs. “I have to have somewhere to keep all my muscles.”

When they get to the ice cream shop, there are a few other people in it, but no line out the door or anything. As they stand in line, Thor asks, “So what flavors are you thinking of getting?”

“Oh, I’m probably just going to get chocolate,” Bruce says.

Thor looks like this answer is a personal affront to him. “But you have to try _at least_ three flavors before you _decide_ on anything!” Thor says.

“I feel like that’s inconveniencing the person working, though,” Bruce says.

“Oh, it’s not that long of a line tonight, plus as long as you’re not trying like seven flavors and then not buying anything they don’t really care. And I know the people who work here. They like me,” Thor says. _Of course you know the people who work here and of course they like you_ , Bruce thinks. Thor looks so earnest about needing to try multiple flavors that Bruce allows himself to go along with it

When they get up to the counter, the ice cream barista, or whatever it is they’re called, does greet them pretty enthusiastically. “Hey, Thor!”

“Hey, Scott!” Thor says. “Could I try the green tea, the earl gray blueberry, and the bourbon vanilla?”

“Youuu got it,” he says. “And for your boyfriend?”

Bruce feels his ears go pink and doesn’t look at Thor to see his reaction. He considers saying, “We’re not actually boyfriends,” but then again, he does _want_ to be Thor’s boyfriend, so maybe vehemently denying it isn’t a good idea either. After maybe taking too long to reply, he settles on just saying, “Can I try the chocolate, the chocolate toasted coconut, and uuuh… the bourbon vanilla too, I guess?”

Thor ends up settling on a large cone of the earl gray blueberry, while Bruce gets a medium cup of the chocolate. But he _did_ try other flavors, so Thor can’t be too disappointed. When they get to the register, Thor takes out his wallet and insists on paying for both of them. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Bruce says. 

“I know. But I wanted to.” 

“Well. Thank you.” 

They sit down and start eating. “So, back to regular physics classes?” Thor asks. “No more sociology for you?” 

“Yeah,” Bruce says, shrugging apologetically. He knows physics isn’t something most people want to talk about, even if it’s usually all he thinks about. “I don’t really have room in my schedule to take any more sociology classes because I’m trying to convince the department to let me do an independent thesis on gamma radiation next year, and I have to prove I’m responsible enough to deal with that as an undergrad.” 

“Ooh, radiation, sounds dangerous,” Thor says. 

Bruce laughs. “It can be, but with the levels I’m working with it should be totally fine. No turning me into a big green monster or anything like that.” 

“Oh, good. We want to keep you looking just as you are –” Thor then starts violently coughing, so much so that he sees Scott look over from the register, vaguely concerned. After a minute he gets a hold of himself though. 

“How about you?” Bruce asks, when the coughing has subsided. “How are your classes going this semester?” He knows it’s the most boring possible question to ask, but he really doesn’t know what else to say to the guy. Thor is a _cool_ guy. He longboards around campus, plays baseball, and throws weekly parties at his house. 

“Oh, my classes are good,” Thor says. “But I want to hear more about this thesis idea of yours before I get into any of that.” 

“Oh, uh, really?” Bruce asks. 

“Yeah,” Thor says, and he looks so earnest that Bruce launches into a much more in-depth description of his research idea than he’s ever given anyone outside of the physics department. Thor looks genuinely interested the whole time, asking him a whole bunch of questions. That was something Bruce had appreciated about him in class. Thor wasn’t afraid to ask questions, even ones that might make him seem dumb. But more often than not, the questions he asks make it clear that he’s really listening to you. Having the full attention of Thor is almost too much for Bruce to handle. Almost. It’s also the best thing that’s happened to him in weeks. He starts to forget about how nervous he was. He can feel himself getting less awkward and more articulate as Thor lets him talk about his passion. 

But then he really _does_ want to hear about Thor’s classes, and Thor tells him about how he’s writing a paper about the way that different neighborhood associations view homelessness, and how that intersects with the house values in each neighborhood, and the whole thing is very interesting. After a while, Thor says, “I think it’s so commendable how you’re able to take classes in sociology while being so good a physics. Sadly, I don’t understand physics at all.” 

Bruce laughs, “Well, I don’t know if I’m that good at sociology either. I just wanted to try something different. Plus, you understand more about physics than you think. You kind of have to understand physics, in a way, to play baseball.” As soon as he says it, Bruce can’t believe it. Has he spent countless hours fantasizing about explaining the physics of baseball to Thor? Yes. Is saying that you have to understand physics to play baseball also possibly the corniest thing anyone has ever said, ever? Also yes. 

But Thor looks intrigued. “Please tell me more.” 

So Bruce does. Thor and Bruce end up talking for so long, in fact, that Scott has to come over and tell them (very nicely) that the store is actually closing. Thor and Bruce walk out to find it still raining lightly, but even though it’s late, neither of them suggests catching a bus. Bruce can guess, if Thor’s feeling what he’s feeling, that they both just don’t want the moment to end. So instead, they just start walking down the sidewalk, the streetlights kind of hazy in the rain, headed toward one of the many bridges that overlook the river. 

Bruce realizes that it was kind of silly for him to be nervous. Even though he might look like one, Thor’s not a god. Underneath his cool exterior he’s just a normal guy who is… well, admittedly very cool, but not at all too cool for Bruce. In fact, Thor’s been listening to everything Bruce has to say with such interest that it makes him feel warm inside despite the rain. They have more in common than Bruce first realizes, although he thinks he must have known on some level or he wouldn’t have had such a crush on the guy. He can tell that Thor is very curious about the world. He just wants to learn as much about everything as he can. Bruce gets excited, realizing that even though they might have totally different interests, that’s perfect for them, because it gives them that much more to explore. 

As he’s thinking all this, like some kind of nerd, he realizes that they’ve reached the bridge and have fallen into silence. He realizes, in fact, that Thor is just kind of looking at him. And yeah, this bridge might objectively not be the most romantic spot in the city. It’s just concrete and there’s tons of cars rushing past. But Bruce there’s also tons of stars above them and reflected in the water and with the wind of the cars Bruce feels this wild adrenaline, he almost feels like he’s dreaming or on some alien world, this can’t be happening, because he’s here with Thor and he’s pretty sure Thor is about to kiss him… 

And then he does, and it’s the perfect first kiss. They bump noses and then laugh and lean in again and get it right that time. Yeah, Bruce is pretty sure there’s a lot that he’s finally got right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are super appreciated! This is my first fic within the Marvel universe. I'm also thinking of writing some expansions within this universe - there's definitely some characters like Valkyrie and Heimdall that I'd love to give some more screentime to, so to speak - so I'd love to hear if there's anything in particular that you'd like to see! Thanks for reading!


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